Theoretically Illogical
by Lightning Streak
Summary: When Sam goes to a college party late one night, the last thing she expected to do was get drunk. Of course, she also hadn't been expecting to wake up in a stranger's apartment...
1. Vertigo

**Disclaimer: I would say that I owned DP, but sadly, I'd get sued…..So, I guess I don't own it.**

**…..I have no idea what I was thinking when I thought of this. However, notice the rating to this story. So, please don't get the wrong idea!**

**_By the way, this is going to be slightly AU, meaning that Sam and Danny never met before._**

* * *

**Theoretically Illogical**

**Chapter 1: Vertigo **

* * *

Twenty year old Samantha Manson leaned up against the wall in a dimly lit corner.

It was a party, alright. There was music, dancing, and enough alcohol to blow up a gas station.

There were also lava lamps, bodies on bodies, drinking contests...

But that was normal for a college party, right?

Sam's violet eyes scanned the overly crowded apartment room in mild disgust. _How did my roommate manage to drag me into** this**? _she wondered. _I should have just stayed back at my apartment. _She looked at the clock sitting on the table next to her. 10:03 P.M. _Great, it's only been one hour and nearly half of the people here are too intoxicated to complete rational thought. _

_Joy. _

Perhaps Sam's biggest misfortune was the fact that her roommate had the keys to their apartment and the car that they shared.

_Not a comforting thought. _Sam looked over at her drunk roommate, Tia, who was dancing with some guy like a deranged Pinocchio.

_Even less of a comforting thought. _

_Then again, extremely idiotic dancing **is** a side-effect to drinking. _

Sam distantly looked around the room again. It seemed as though most of the people there were experiencing such a side-effect. Others seemed to have been wiped off the map entirely, crawling on their hands and knees to the drink bar. A few were on their backs, hopelessly attempting the worm without any sort of motor skill whatsoever.

* * *

_"Hey, Sam! Wait up!" _

_Sam turned around to see Tia jogging up to her with a smile on her face. _

_"Guess what?" she asked. _

_"You won the lottery?" Sam replied jokingly. _

_"Close, but no." _

_"Then what is it?" _

_"Well, you know my friend, Dave?" _

_"Yeah," Sam replied casually, her brain recognizing the name. "He's the one with bleached hair, right?"_

_Her roommate nodded. "He's throwing a party at his apartment on Saturday, and he invited us to come!" Tia said with glee. _

_In reply, Sam face faulted, her infamous frown replacing her smile. "Tia, you know I don't like to go to parties. I mean, I'm not exactly Miss Social." _

_"But, Sam! You have to come!"_

_"Why? Chances are there's going to be alcohol, which means-"_

_"We're twenty-two, Sam. I highly doubt we can get in trouble." _

_"But what if there are minors at the party? That means we would still be liable. And in plus, I'm not a social person. You know that." _

_Tia gave Sam her best puppy -eyes face (and Sam had to admit: it was pretty convincing.) "Please? I'll talk to Dave about the drinks, and you know literally all of the other juniors in this place. All you'd have to do is some small talk, and you'd end up with a group of friends by the end of the party. Just give it a chance!" her roommate pleaded desperately. _

_Sam sighed in defeat.. **She's probably just going to bug me until I give in anyway...**"All right, all right," she finally surrendered, "I'll-" She was cut off when Tia squealed happily and hugged her. _

* * *

Since nine o' clock, all Sam had done was either talk to Tia or sit around, trying to blend in with the white walls. (Sadly, Sam had trouble blending in with a white wall due to the fact that she was inconspicuously dressed in black).

Shouts of "Tequila!" could be heard over the music, and Sam scoffed at their idiocy. _But then, _she thought morbidly, _what was I expecting?_

Sighing, Sam stood up and walked over to the food table and poured herself a cup of punch. Yet as she went to pour herself some, she noticed that there were two crystals bowls of punch. Both bowls of drinks looked the same. Sam thought nothing of it.

But as soon as she took the first sip, she noticed something different about the punch.

It tasted incredibly fruity (like punch naturally should), but it burned ever so slightly going down her throat. Her eyebrows furrowed in deep thought, soaking in the odd, yet satisfying taste of the punch.

It tasted good. _Sinfully_ good, in fact.

In no time at all, Sam downed the whole cup. She smiled as her stomach warmed from the liquid.

_Huh, I wonder what kind of punch this is. _Sam went back to the table and poured another cup. _Whatever this is though, it tastes great..._

And that cup led to another cup, and perhaps another. Eventually, it led to so many cups that Sam lost count, and eventually, her ability _to_ count was lost.

By that time, Sam was beginning to feel…happy. That was a big deal for her, considering everything. She was _never_ happy.

Hell, she felt so good, she even was beginning to dance to the music…

* * *

Exactly twenty minutes later proved the well-tested effects of seventy-five proof punch in the stomach of a small woman's body:

"Tequila!" Sam yelled happily, singing along with everyone dancing around her.

She turned around to dance with that dude she was dancing with earlier-she couldn't exactly remember who he was-and found out that she wasn't really dancing with anyone.

_Oh well! _Sam thought, still twirling around and moving her body with the beat of the music. This was so much fun! She felt so…free! So alive, so real, and she could actually_ feel_, and she was rhyming in her mind and-!

"Tequila!" She called out again, only to realize it wasn't time to say that just yet…

_Oops! _She giggled, twirling again to the music.

"Refills! Anybody want refills!" Tia's voice rang out over the music as she passed out purple and gold colored drinks.

Sam turned around to face Tia with a totally new alcohol-induced light. "Tia!" She said, grabbing a golden drink. "What a great party!"

"I'm happy you," Tia hiccupped and slurred, "like it!" She stumbled on her way to the food table to set down the extra drinks.

Sam just stood there for a second, trying to regain some balance. And that seemed to get harder and harder with every passing minute.

_Stupid ground...it won't stay still! _she thought grudgingly.

She played with the hem of her black velvet tank top as she listened to the rhythm, soprano, and bass of the voices around her. Dozens of conversations floated and interweaved through her ears like a hazy song.

"-An Olympic sized pool for the apartments. It's at the back, and they're opening it for the party!" some guy explained to his friend.

Sam smiled and walked over to the apartment door. She was gonna go to this pool. After all, swimming was the perfect way to end a party! And she liked swimming, didn't she?

_...Of course I do!_ she decided. Then her face faulted into a drunken pout.

_Wait a minute, I don't have a suit! _Sam just mentally shrugged. _Oh well. That's what underwear is for. _

She breathed in the night air and giggled once more as she stumbled down the apartment's sidewalk. _This is the most fun I've had since…forever! _

_Why haven't I done this before? _

She straightened her black bell bottom pants and tank top as she stood out in the middle of the road.

_Now, where did they say that pool was? Oh, yeah! They said it was back at my apartment! _

Sam began walking down the middle of the road, trying to find her apartment.

College lights and cars and trees twisted in her way as her vision blurred. She staggered, and the world swam in circles, leading her to believe that the ground held some sort of grudge against her. Perhaps it really did, because she couldn't tell if it was playing merry-go-round with the sky, if it had actually obtained a new subpoint in its definition that included the word 'portable,' or if it was really just staying in one spot like usual.

"Whoa," she swallowed hard, blinking hard. How many yellow lines separated the road's left and right lanes? Why couldn't she remember?

And where was her apartment again?

It was then that she got the brillant idea to look up, and she saw a random guy walking on the other side of the road. "Hey!" she waved her arm. Or tried to. It flopped strangely over her head. She'd have to work on waving later, because going swimming was much more important. "Hey, you! Excuse me? Do you know where my apartment is?"

His ice blue eyes flickered her way, and after a second's hesitation, he walked towards her. "Miss, are you alright?" his tenor voice echoed in the back of her mind. She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to figure out why his words were out of time with his mouth, but to no avail.

Her memory became worse in that moment. She suddenly couldn't remember anything anymore. Things became hazy, almost like a dream…

* * *

Twelve hours later found her waking from blissful oblivion into a rather unfortunate reality. Sam groaned as intense light hit her eyes. She snuggled deeper into her pillow, desperately wishing for the light to shut off.

But sadly, she couldn't get back to sleep. She felt too awful to fall back asleep. Her neck was killing her, her stomach was turning, she felt a little green...

Sam cracked open an eye and immediately wished she hadn't. Her dilated eyes took in _way_ too much light from the window, and her disoriented mind flipped and spun her skull into one mother of a headache.

_Well, at least I made it back to my apartment, _she thought in slight relief as she struggled to hold back a groan of pain. _Maybe I should take an aspirin or something. _

It was then that Sam noticed she was plastered to a couch. _Hmm, I must have fallen asleep like that last night. _

She shakingly pulled herself up, rubbing her temples due to her extreme headache.

_That party was killer... What was in that punch?_

Sam finally focused on her surroundings.

And she finally realized that her apartment didn't have that type of décor. Nor did they have a couch in that certain place. Or those space posters on the wall.

It wasn't her apartment.

Fully alert, or as alert as she could be in her situation, she turned her head towards the kitchen, hoping her eyes were deceiving her.

That hope was apparently too much to ask for.

A guy was sitting the kitchen, reading some book. Suddenly, he looked over in her direction with his ice blue eyes.

Sam panicked. _Oh my God! Where am I? Who's that! _

_What happened last night? _

And so, Sam did the first thing she could think of.

She screamed.

* * *

**(Hands shrivel and fall off my arms.) Ouch. That was a lot to type in one day….**

**Okay, people, I'm gonna ask: What did you think? Do you like it? Do you want me to continue? **

**I really did work hard on this, and so I'd really appreciate some feedback. **

**Please no flames. **

**Lightning Streak**

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**Pretty please, land me a reveiw and tell me if anyone out there in Cyberspace cares about this story! **


	2. Yours Truly, Alcohol

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that relates to Danny Phantom. However, I do own this plot. (insert evil laughter…)

Wow…the reviews! So many! (Passes out from happiness.) I feel loved!

And don't worry, I've put some twists in this chapter so that the story can have an unexpected plotline!

I'm also working on my other stories too as I'm writing this. The next chapter of Desperado should be out soon!

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**Theoretically Illogical **

**Chapter 2: Yours Truly, Alcohol**

* * *

For some college students, Saturday nights were the pinnacle of life, the sign that God existed, the ultimate salvation from the previous five days of misery and woe.

But, for others, Saturday nights were a lot like those previous week days, and as such had little to no extra significance. This was an unfortunate circumstance often felt by college students with both good intentions and horrible class attendance.

Daniel Fenton was one such college student.

Instead of attending parties and drinking the rough, alcoholic equivalent of a small aquarium, he found himself sitting at a kitchen table in the safety of his own apartment. He was surrounded by thickly bound, hardback books with words like "Biology" and "Introduction to Aereospace Physics" on them, and he was very, very nervous as he hesitantly opened up the notebook closest to him.

He had faced some pretty interesting dangers in his lifetime (which was a story for another time), but that notebook usually gave him more symptoms of heart failure than anything else.

In it was a list of all the homework he had forgotten to do during the week. By opening it, his mental stability (or what was left of it) was at risk. His illusion of a somewhat stable GPA was at risk. His entire weekend of rest and relaxation was at risk.

With a quick motion that mimicked ripping off a bandaid, he opened the notebook to the current week and snatched his hand away. Then, he tentatively ran his eyes over his scrawled and nearly illegible writing that alluded to cold, cruel reality kicking his ass yet again.

The blood fled from his face. His stomach heaved. First bullet to the brain? Three hundred and twelve pages out of his Biology book for a huge test on Wednesday. Second bullet? One hundred and thirty pages out of his Areospace Intro book for a lab on Tuesday. Third bullet? A five page essay on purple back gorillas for his Natural Science class.

In that second, he knew it was over.

Five hundred and forty-two pages. That he had to read. By Monday, on _top_ of an essay.

That just wasn't going to happen.

He groaned pathetically, banging his head into the kitchen table. "Why, God?" he complained, voice muffled by the papers. "Why do you do this to me?"

Very reluctantly, he pealed his face from the kitchen table and desperately brainstormed for a good distraction.

"Okay, Fenton," he talked to himself. "Calm down. I still have the weekend. I just need to relax. I just... gotta get away for a little bit. Yeah. Then I can come back and dominate this later."

Selling his soul to please sadistic professors with power complexes had _so_ not been what he wanted to do over the weekend. Danny ran a hand through his hair and sighed, his nerves frazzled with stress. _Maybe I'll just take a walk?_

He glanced up at the clock. 10:30 P.M. Danny shrugged and grabbed his apartment keys, heading out the door. _Yeah, a walk sounds good. _

Stepping outside, the fears and worries of academics rolled off his shoulders in waves, and he breathed in the fresh, night air. Out here, he felt satisfactorily isolated from his homework.

He leisurely walked past the apartment complex and onto one of the college's sidewalks that led to the recreational parks, blue eyes observing campus life and listening to the rhythm and bass of one hell of a party not too far away.

Following the sound of the echoing bass, he pin-pointed the party. It was taking place in an apartment not too far from his, which he wasn't sure if he was going to appreciate at 3:00 AM later on.

Someone threw a beer bottle out the second-story balcony. A small crash echoed, and Danny glanced at where it landed. There, on the edge of the road, was a small graveyard of shattered beer bottles, Bud Light cans, and dirty bongs.

Danny frowned and kicked a pebble across the road, walking on with little interest. He loved parties as much as the next guy, but he knew there was a line. He also knew the person hosting the party would probably be receiving an upwards of three hundred dollars in fines to the college for reckless litering, and another five hundred dollars and potential expulsion for the bongs.

Definitely not worth it.

Suddenly, drunken giggles reached his ears. Turning his head, he saw a girl staggering in the middle of the street, attempting to keep herself from falling (but failing miserably anyway).

As he tried to walk by unnoticed, the girl acknowledged his presence. "_Hey_! Hey you! Excuse me? Do you know where my apartment is?" she slurred, almost unintelligibly.

Danny stared, eyes wide. He hadn't been planning on confronting drunk people during his walk.

Then, he realized slowly that he had to do something. No one _that_ plastered should go anywhere, especially alone. She could get hit by a car (the fact she was in the middle of the road was a big hint), or something equally as pointless.

…Maybe he should help her…

And so he walked up to her and asked, "Miss, are you alright?" Which, in actuality, was a stupid question. But it was a standard question, so anyone could get away with the crime.

She just stared at him, her violet eyes wide and blank. "Of course. The earth just needs to stop spinning beneath me." She hiccupped and then swayed a bit, eyes unfocusing. "Really spinning..."

On a scale of one to ten how drunk she was, he'd rate her a 9.5, based on her answer.

Danny ran a hand through his hair and bit his lower lip in frustrated thought. Being a drunk woman's babysitter back to her apartment was about as appealing as his homework.

_…But with the looks that girl has, her chances of just being picked off the street are pretty big. _Danny blushed at that last thought. _At least if she went with me, no one would take advantage of her._

"Look, do you want help getting home?" he asked.

She looked at him and smiled, flashing perfect white teeth. "I'm going swimming, once I find my apartment. Where's my apartment?"

Danny just blinked. "You don't know where your apartment is?"

The girl hiccupped and replied, "I think I left it at my house."

…Obviously, their conversation was going nowhere.

Without a second thought, she turned away. "Tequila!" Sam started spinning around in circles, but she stopped after the third spin. "Where's my drink?"

"I don't think you _need_ another drink," Danny replied in exasperation, setting his hands on her shoulders to keep her from falling.

Well, if she had been dizzy before, she would definitely be dizzy now, Danny guessed.

She pulled away from him to spin some more. "You spin me right round, baby, right round!" she sang offkey with the distant song, throwing her arms out. As she spun, though, her legs decided to argue with her brain about how to properly move, and she stumbled. Fast as lightning, he caught her in his arms, the hem of her velvet tank top bunching up against his arms. He blushed deeply, realizing his fingers had accidentally brushed against the smooth skin of her stomach. She glanced up at him, her deep, violet eyes wide and full lips slightly open in surprise.

He cleared his throat and pulled away. "There," he said, turning his face to hide his deep blush. "Now just don't dance, and I think you'll be okay."

"Who're you?" she asked suddenly.

Danny sighed. "I'm Danny. And you are?"

"I'm Super Sammy!" she said with a giggle, like it was a deliciously wonderful secret.

"…I'll just call you Sam."

"So why do I feel like I'm flying?" Sam said airily, her dazed expression widening in surprise. Then, a thought hit her, and she frowned. She poked Danny in the chest. "Hey, you're not supposed to stand up while the plane is taking off!" She picked a leaf off of one of the nearby bushes and placed it on Danny's shoulder. "You're supposed to wear a seat belt!"

Danny just rolled his eyes. Well, apparently, he wouldn't have to worry about her safety if she ever flew on a plane…

He brush the leaf off of him, feeling slightly confused when Sam gasped in terror.

"Y-you took off your seat belt!" Her eyes widened. "You're gonna _die_! Abandon ship, ABANDON SHIP!" she yelled, drunkenly running back out into the street.

Danny quickly caught her by the arm before a passing car ran her over.

His grip on her shoulders tightened ever so slightly. "Don't do that!" he said, his heart thumping rapidly. Sam blinked and nodded.

"I saw the white light."

…

Danny just sighed and began leading her to his apartment, where the alcohol in her system would hopefully wear off enough for her to tell him where she lived. Then, he could escort her back to her apartment.

Unfortunately, most of his plans usually fell apart, and deep in his soul, he knew something would probably go wrong with this one too.

"So just how many drinks did you have again?" he asked, along the way.

"I think I drank too much," she complained. Her unfocused eyes were glassing over, and she slowed down. The blood from her face drained, and she pulled away from him.

Then, with all the grace of an ungainly bird, she stumbled to her knees and vomited on the grass. Danny's nose scrunched with the sound.

"Oh God," she moaned. "I drank way too much!"

"I couldn't tell," Danny remarked dryly. "At least you're getting it out of your system."

After a moment, convinced that she probably wouldn't vomit again, Sam tried to stand back up, but her legs and arms shook. Danny, ever the knight in shining armor, groaned. Having gone this far, he was obligated to help her. With a sigh, he dutifully kneeled beside her and brought her to her feet. "Come on," he said softly. "We're almost there."

"You're really strong," she slurred in reply, still leaning heavily against him, her small hands wrapping about the strong, corded muscles of his arm hidden by his baggy shirt.

Up ahead was his complex, and they were already on the off-branching sidewalk to get there. He was sure they made an interesting pair to any passerbys.

As he climbed up the steps to his apartment door, he said in relief, "We're here. Just a few more steps, Sam."

They reached the final step together, and down a couple doors was his apartment number. He turned the knob and reached out to flip on the lights. "Welcome to my apartment," he told her, gently ushering her in.

"Are we at the chocolate factory?" she asked airily.

He couldn't help but snort. "Not quite."

He glanced around and checked the three smaller rooms connected to the living area. "Looks like my roommate's not back yet."

He turned back around to face Sam, who was still leaning against the wall in the kitchen. "Just make yourself at home," he told her. "And when you remember where you live, I'll walk you back."

"Kay," she said distractedly, sitting down on the first chair she saw by the kitchen table.

His lips twitched in an uncertain smile. "Great."

_Now what? _

That damn notebook was still open to the page of his early academic grave, and his eyes kept traveling to it. "I guess I'd better, you know, study and stuff, then. Till you remember." He sat down opposite of her to study his books, and she silently watched him.

He opened up his biology book and began on his extensive assignment.

Time passed. Minutes ticked by into an hour, and Sam was still nowhere near remembering what her apartment number was, much less her own last name.

"I'm a vegetarian," she said suddenly, watching him from her vantage point.

It was then Danny realized he wouldn't get any reading done with her around. He looked up. "Let me guess: You feel sorry for all the cows in the slaughter house?"

"Actually, I hate plants."

Danny took on a thoughtful expression. "…You know, that actually makes sense."

"But the reason you came up with works too." By now, Sam's slurring was slowly dying down, meaning she could finally create understandable sentences. "I think I'm Jewish too."

"Does this mean you know where you live?" he asked hopefully.

She scrunched up her face in deep thought. "A really big house," she said finally, and he face faulted.

"No, I mean on campus," he pressed.

She looked startled. "I'm on a campus?" Sam looked down at her hands. "How old am I again?"

He sighed.

"Look, why don't you try to eat something?" he asked her. "Maybe it would help."

Sam cocked her head to the side and stood up. Walking into Danny's room, she shut the door. He raised a brow. "I don't have any food in there!" he called out to her.

But he knew he was trying to reason with a drunk person, so he just shrugged and figured she couldn't do too much damage in there. "Okay then, back to biology," he muttered under his breath, turning the page.

* * *

Sometime later, a door opened, catching Danny's attention. He turned his head, and his jaw dropped.

Instead of her all-black outfit, Sam was wearing one of Danny's oversized shirts and one of his boxers…The red ones with hearts.

Confused, Danny just watched as she laid down on the couch.

Sam replied to his expression: "I'm going to the car wash!" She snuggled into one of the pillows and yawned.

"That's…nice," Danny said slowly. "…What are you doing in my clothes?"

But Sam was already drifting off into a dream world.

Danny looked at her from the kitchen, and then sighed, standing up. Well, there went his plan A. Time for plan B.

He went to his bedroom and pulled out one of his extra blankets. He gently covered her up, and she instinctively pulled the warmth closer.

_I guess I can let her sleep here on the couch tonight. _

He caught himself staring at her peaceful expression. She really _was_ beautiful. Then, he blushed and quickly returned to the kitchen area.

Yeah, she was probably some popular girl that could care less and wouldn't even thank him for saving her from the streets, and he hated that the thought popped up in his mind.

Back to physics and biology before he thought anymore about it.

* * *

Stop. Fast Forward to 10:03 A.M.

Danny found himself staring at Sam, mouth gaping in surprise and very deep panic.

This was definitely not what he imagined would happen.

"Oh my God!" Sam cried out, falling back onto the couch, protectively flinging the blanket over her body. "Oh my God, who are you? Where am I? What'd you do to me? What happened last-?" She suddenly realized that she wasn't wearing her black clothes, and when she looked down to see a man's boxers slung on her hips, her face paled, and her breath quickened in hyperventilation. "O-oh...!"

Danny felt panic storm through his body. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? How the heck was he supposed to calm a hangover-ridden, uncoordinated, and overall _hysterial _woman like the one infront of him?

The man quickly raised up his hands in surrender, book forgotten. He swallowed hard. "Relax!" he interrupted, blue eyes wide. "I didn't do anything!"

…

As anyone could probably guess, his attempt at explaining himself didn't work very well.

She glanced up, eyes narrowing in pure suspicion. "Yeah, right!" She picked at the boxers she was wearing and gave him a pointed stare, mixed with dark fear. "You really expect me to believe that?"

"Look," he tried to calm her down. "My name's Danny. You were stumbling around drunk on the road, and I tried to help you back to your apartment, but you didn't remember where you lived, so I brought you back here to at least get you off the street. We're still on campus. This is apartment complex 13. I'm a college student. And I swear to God I didn't do _anything_ to you."

She swallowed hard. "You promise?" she said harshly.

"I promise," he said again, tone serious. "I would never take advantage of a woman."

"Then why am I wearing your underwear?" she pressed, still shaken. She discreetly checked to see if she was still wearing her own underwear beneath his, and she was. Thank God. That gave her slight hope. She turned back to him. "And why are the lights here so bright? And why does my head hurt so bad?" She grimaced, rubbing her temples. "_Jesus_."

Sam collapsed back on the couch, unable to function correctly.

Danny stared blankly at her before he realized that her taciturn attitude was in part a 'Yours Truly' from all the alcohol. He quickly strode into the kitchen and rummaged for a bottle of aspirin. Finding one, he pulled it out from the cabinet. Then, Danny filled up a glass of water and handed the items to Sam.

"Take two of these," he stated. "You probably have a really bad hangover, right?"

"…You have no idea." Sam swallowed the pills and rested her head on the edge of the couch. "So what exactly happened last night?" she asked again with suspicion, a sick feeling in her stomach. "How many drinks did I have, anyway?"

Danny leaned against the wall, keeping his distance incase Sam would freak out or…something…

Maybe he wouldn't tell her.

Or, on second thought, considering her defensive behavior, maybe it would be best to tell her, but just leave out the more embarrassing details.

_Uh, hehe..._He swallowed. Hard.

Sam just stared at Danny, waiting in suspicion.

And it was then Fate decided to let Danny's roommate walk through the door.

"Hey, Dan!" Tucker Foley said cheerfully, shutting the mahogany door behind him. "You'll never believe what happened at the Technology Club! I-" Tucker stopped mid-sentence and stared at Sam.

"Uh, dude? Why is there a hot chick wearing your boxers?"

* * *

…**.O.o….scary….**

**So, umm….yeah….I UPDATED! I think this story has only one more chapter, and then it will be finished! (insert diabolical laughter.)**

**_PLEASE REVIEW FOR THE PENGUINS HAVE STOLEN MY INSPIRATION!_ **

…

**Lightning Streak**


	3. Adventures in Grocery Stores

**Disclaimer: (groans and points to the word, "Disclaimer.")**

**(stares at inbox.) Oh…my…gosh…That's a lot of reviews…47!.(insert happy dance.) Thank you so much! I would thank you all personally, but, apparently, has outlawed review replies… (sobs.) **

**But on a brighter note, I'm actually updating! It's a miracle! **

* * *

**Theoretically Illogical **

**Chapter 3: Adventures in Grocery Stores**

* * *

At Tucker's comment, Sam blushed a deep shade of pink.

That just sounded wrong on _so_ many levels.

Danny wasn't looking much better. His face was beet red. "…Uh, guys? Are you okay?" Tucker inquired after not getting a reply. His eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to figure out the situation.

"Depends," Sam replied slowly to his question. "What's your definition of okay?" She snuggled her face back into the couch pillow, desperately wishing for sleep. Anything to get away from the current status quo…

Tucker looked at Danny, hoping to get an answer from him. His roommate sighed in defeat. "Look, Sam got locked out of her apartment and needed a place to stay."

Tucker raised an eyebrow, noticing how Danny didn't look him in the eyes. "I have a feeling that's not all." He nudged Danny in the ribs. "Whatcha hiding, Danny?"

Said roommate inwardly groaned, knowing Tucker would never leave it alone…

Was the world suddenly against him?

Rubbing his temples, Danny replied nervously, "She was, uh, drunk."

Tucker blinked a few times. Then, he laughed, and he laughed so hard that he started crying. Sam glared at him through her slightly messed up eye shadow. "_Dude_!" He exclaimed to Danny, wiping tears from his eyes. "You have all the luck!"

Eye twitching, Sam gave him another dark glare that promised suffering. "And _you_ are getting on my last nerve. To answer all of the questions running through your sick mind, I'll reply once: _No."_

_I…hope, _she suddenly thought, slightly panicking.

The African American backed away slowly from the fuming girl and his blushing roommate. "Okay…" He figured it would be best not to anger the girl more. "Well then, can I at least know _what_ happened?"

Sam stared at one guy to the other, her gaze lingering on Danny. "No kidding…care to elaborate?" Her headache was slowly receding, thank God, allowing her to think a little better. However, it wasn't over yet. And from the way Danny was blushing, she figured it was only going to get worse.

"W-well," Danny stuttered nervously, "I was walking to the college park..."

* * *

After only five minutes, Sam had permanently hid her face in the couch pillow. Danny looked about ready to die, and Tucker looked to be convulsing on the floor, suffering from lack of oxygen to his brain.

Danny looked up at the ceiling. "I hate my life," he said ruefully.

Sam sat up on the couch. "I hate my life more." The burning sensation on her face doubled as she stared into his eyes, but then quickly averted them.

How was she supposed to look him in the eye after such a degrading account?

_What will Tia think? _Her thoughts crashed to a stop. "Oh my God: my roommate!" Sam stood up, ignoring her apparent dizziness and coordination. "I have to get back home!"

As she tried to move, her legs buckled, like any recovering drunk would have done. But before she could hit the floor, she found herself surrounded by two arms.

Two very strong, familiar arms.

Still trying to process what had happening in those scant seconds, Sam looked up at her savior and blushed in embarrassment. "Thanks," Sam whispered to Danny as he helped her back up. She picked up her black clothes off the floor, but not ever once thinking about returning Danny's _own_ clothes.

Meanwhile, Tucker ceased laughing, intently watching the scene before him. There was potential chemistry between the two, he concluded, stroking his chin.

He inwardly smirked.

Oh the pictures he could blackmail them with…! He pulled out his handheld PDA, discretely snapping a few shots. He thrust it back into his pocket when Sam carefully began walking towards the door.

"Hey, no problem," Danny replied good-naturedly. "Are you sure you can make it back to your apartment by yourself?" For some reason, he kind of didn't want to part with Sam. And he had no clue why. Clearing his head, he shrugged off the feeling. He was probably just overly concerned with her safety...

Cause, you know, he'd worked so hard to keep her safe this far.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine." She opened up the door. "It shouldn't be too far from here. And thanks again." She slipped out the apartment room and shut the door behind her.

Danny sighed once more and flopped down on the couch, zoning out like everyone tends to do from time to time.

Tucker sat down next to him. "Geez, you help her out and all you get is a 'thank you?' I think you got cheated."

"I know," he responded wistfully. "She could have at _least_ left her phone number…"

Tucker wisely chose not to reply to that, realizing Danny was still under the influence of a blank mind.

* * *

Up till then, Sam had just been standing on the last step of the stairs, overhearing their conversation from the open window.

She raised an eyebrow as she looked back at the apartment door. _My phone number? _

She rolled her eyes and smiled. Guys, they never changed.

But then she did something she hadn't considered before. She memorized their room number for future purposes. Maybe she'd take a rain check on giving out her phone number.

After all, that Danny guy _was_ kind of sexy…in an adorable sort of way…

* * *

On the other side of the apartment complex, Sam stood at the door of her own room. She knocked, hoping to get the attention of her rather unreliable roommate. If she was even there, that is.

Lucky for her, Tia did open the door.

And the first thing Sam noticed was Tia's scraggly and rumpled appearance. Still in the outfit from last night, Tia had smeared make up and slightly green features, her normally cheerful smile a grimace. She walked with unsure feet, much like Sam herself.

"Hey, Sam," she said, holding her head. "Come in, you look like shit."

"Thanks a lot, Tia." She walked in and slipped off her sandals. And then Sam caught a glance of herself in the hallway mirror.

All in all, Tia wasn't kidding. Both the roommates looked like death itself.

Sam grimaced and pulled at her disheveled locks, pressing her lips together. Had she really talked to Danny looking like this? "Oh God," she said, eyes wide.

A little dose of embarassment dropped into her stomach, and she fought back a groan at the world. "If you need me, think I'm gonna go to my room and hide my face for the rest of my life." She turned away from the mirror before she could feel any more pity for herself and opened the door to her room.

Sam lied down on her dark purple comforter, still wondering why she had even gone to the party.

Tia slipped through the door. "So, Miss Antisocial, did ya have fun?"

Sam lifted her head and stared at Tia. "I feel like I've been run over by a truck... Does that answer your question?"

Tia sat down on the bed next to Sam, a questioning glint in her bloodshot eyes. "Not all of it. Where were you last night?"

"Off in loopy land like you were."

"No, I mean where were you: physically speaking."

Sam sighed, racking her brain for something to say. "I was at…a friend's apartment."

Tia quirked an eyebrow. "Who is this friend?"

"…His name's Danny."

"Oh, so it's a guy friend, huh?"

"Judging by his name; _Obviously." _

"Is he cute?" Tia asked curiously, forgetting about her headache for now. This information was more important.

Of course, now that she thought about it, she wasn't even aware Sam _had_ guy friends. Or _any_ friends for that matter...

Sam blushed and avoided her roommate's gaze. "I don't know. I never really paid attention to his looks…"

"You're lying Sam."

"Well, okay, _fine_. He's kind of cute."

"How long have you known him?"

Sam's thoughts went into a jumble once again. What was she supposed to tell Tia?

_Maybe it would just be best to tell her the truth, _Sam concluded with a wince.

"Since last night?"

Tia's eyes widened with surprise. "Geez, Sam, I never thought-"

"It's not what you think!" Sam cried out defensively. Sighing, she related the events of that passed night, Tia desperately trying to hold in her giggles.

And then, suddenly, it hit her. "Oh no!" Sam exclaimed, horror overwhelming her. "I forgot to give Danny back the clothes he lent me!"

"Oh, so those are _his_ boxers?"

Sam face faulted.

"…Shut up, Tia."

* * *

**MONDAY: 3:37 P.M**

* * *

Danny grumbled as he shifted his backpack to one shoulder, cursing his books. Why did they have to be so heavy anyway?

He had tests to study for in nearly every class, a C average in nearly all of those classes, and God knew how many projects he'd forgotten about. He hadn't even started that purple back gorilla essay yet.

His thoughts were already occupied by something.

Or rather, some_one_.

_Why can't I get that Sam girl out of my mind? _he wondered in annoyance. _It's not like she's anyone special. I mean, she was drunk! That's not exactly a ringing endorsement. _

He looked up at the sky. _So why am I wondering where's she at, and how she's doing? _

Catching himself in the act, Danny shook himself out of _that_ train of thought and walked into his apartment.

He threw his backpack on the couch, forgetting his homework in favor of his stomach.

Danny walked into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator to find…

…Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Danny's eyes narrowed suspicously. _Tucker._

Sighing, he took two twenties out of his backpack and then stuffed them in his jean pocket.

_I swear, one of these days I'm going to make **him** pay for all the food…_

He locked the apartment door behind him.

* * *

So, Sam realized something that afternoon: bicycling to the store with the lingering remains of a hangover was not really the best idea. She still had horrible balance, and that never combined well with a bike.

The sun definitely wasn't helping. Sam sighed dejectedly and crossed the deserted street, letting her thoughts wander. And of course, the subject of _him _came up in her mind.

Lately, she'd been wondering about that guy Danny.

Now _why_ she was wondering about him, Sam didn't know. As a matter of fact, all of her thoughts that day were random.

It was probably from the alcohol, she guessed. _Or maybe I just feel that I should thank him again for what he did. Or really, for what he **didn't** do..._

Sam was on the back roads of the town, which she had found out, lead to just about everywhere in Amity. She passed by the rows of trees as fast as she could, wanting to get to the grocery store and back as soon as possible.

After all, she had a test to study for.

A _very_ important test. Forty-five percent of her grade.

The road she was on ended next to the mall, which was right by the grocery store. _Oh, thank God, _Sam thought. _Is it just me, or did that road get longer? _

Narrowly missing a car, she rode up to the bike rails and hopped off. After locking her deep purple bike to the rail, she swept invisible dust off her arms and made her way to the doors.

The grocery store itself looked as thought it just came out of the future. It was one of those "architectural experiment" buildings that someone with too much money decided to build. The entire front side was glass with titanium lining. And above the twelve foot doors was a bright neon sign that flashed, "Shoppe a la Future."

Something about having ghost hunters in Amity Park attracted a lot of futuristic things.

Sam just rolled her eyes as the glass doors folded in on their selves, emitting her into the store.

However, just because something _looked_ cool, didn't necessarily mean it was different from everything else. The inside of the store looked like an overly stuffed drug store, random people aimlessly wandering.

And it was there the great crusade began. Sam zipped through the aisles, searching for all she needed in as little time as possible.

_I **have** to get home to study!_

In five minutes flat, she had found what she needed.

Advil, Tylenol, and food.

_Salad! _Sam thought happily as she took five bags down from the crowded shelf.

Her stomach growled as she stared at the food, reminding her of its neglect. Now that the alcohol had (finally) worn off, she _really _was hungry…

…And if eating meant not reading section two of her biology, then so be it.

By the time she had checked out, it was 4:00. Satisfied that she hadn't wasted too much time, Sam walked out the sliding doors with her bags.

* * *

Within Shoppe a La Future, Danny had just been minding his own business, as usual, when he couldn't help but notice there was a gap in the shelf in between the the jars of salsa, the hole letting him see into the next aisle.

He, once again, being his usual self, opted to look through it.

And he couldn't believe his luck.

There, looking at the salad choices, in all her sweatpant and baggy t-shirt glory, was Sam. Her black hair was pulled up in a sleek ponytail, and she was without any makeup

A smile lit Danny's features. If there was any time to get her phone number, now would be his chance…

But before he could even walk to the next aisle, she grabbed five bags of salad (was that all she ever ate?) and rushed off.

Danny raised an eyebrow. What was she in such a hurry for?

But speaking of hurries, he still had that test to study for. The one that counted for forty-five percent of his biology grade.

Panic shot through him at that moment. He had totally forgotten! Danny bit his lip, indecision tearing him two ways.

While he really should be studying, he realized, it could be possible that this would be the last time he saw Sam…And you know, ask her how she was feeling and stuff...

Sighing, he closed his eyes and focused on his gut feeling.

He went to go search for Sam.

But with him and his horrible direction sense, he couldn't find her. Out of the entire store, he couldn't find her…

Could it be possible that she already left?

When that realization sunk in, Danny then saw how desperate he really was becoming.

What made him want to talk to her so badly?

…He didn't know.

It was just…there. A want, even a need, to know her.

But then again, he had felt random desires to eat pizza before…

So what made this any different?

* * *

**OMG! I'm almost done with this story! ****I'm just really sorry that it took so long to type this. I feel horrible! I get all these emails pleading for me to update, and I really, REALLY, want to. But I go to pull up Microsoft Word, and my mind goes blank…..**

**Luckily, I at least know where I'm going with the next chapter, so it shouldn't take as long as this one did. **

**Ooh! Guess what? I put a foreshadow into this chapter, and I was just wondering if anyone could find it….**

**This chapter was more of a filler, so it was definitely harder to write humor and other things into it. However, I would really appreciate constructive critisism! **

**Lightning Streak**

**Please Review!**


	4. Of Exams and Embarrassing Moments

_Disclaimer: Thyself hath no ownership over Danny Phantom._

_Yes it is true! You're eyes are not deceiving you! For the first time in over half a year, Theoretically Illogical is being UPDATED! Yay! Although, I would suggest going over the last three chapters before you read this if you have totally forgotten everything._

_I, once again, am sorry for the long wait.:sighs: But then, what did you expect from someone as irresponsible as me:insert sheepish smile: I'm trying to get better, really I am!_

_Luckily, I managed to salvage some of my creative juices and present to you this chapter!_

* * *

**Theoretically Illogical**

**Chapter 4: Of Exams and Embarrassing Moments**

* * *

The sun was rising, the birds were beginning to chirp, and random people stared as a sleep-walking college student trudged pass them.

Half awake, Danny dragged his feet while barely managing to hold onto his backpack. Running on only three hours of sleep, the student was fated to fall unconscious during the biology exam.

He'd spent nearly the entire night cramming information into his abused mind, and he had known full well that it would all be forgotten by 7 AM. And, once again, he was proven right.

Obviously, someone up in the sky didn't like him.

Danny plodded up the limestone steps that led to his imminent doom. Oh, what he wouldn't give for coffee! You know, with lots and lots of caffeine...

...Or perhaps for a brain. _Preferably a working one. _

Sighing, he opened the glass door of the brick building and headed down the right hallway, finally reaching his biology class, which was the second to last room on the left. And it seemed that he was just in time. Fellow classmates were settling down, mentally preparing themselves for the test that would start in a few minutes.

Almost mechanically, Danny found his spot in the back of the big classroom. He clumsily dropped his backpack on the floor and sat down in the metal chair, awaiting his fate.

_So uh, what's this test about again?_

Suddenly, Danny felt very concerned over his mental stability.

_I have a feeling that this isn't going to go over well..._

"Okay class," the middle-aged professor stated happily, "your exam will start now. Are there any questions before we start?"

A tense silence was her answer as her students stared back at her with undaunted expressions.

"..._Okay _then," she said slowly, an eyebrow raised. "As soon as I hand out the test, you may begin."

Taking a deep breath of self-preparation, Danny tried to calm his over reactive stress nerves down as the professor set a three page packet on his desk.

_I can do this! _he prepped himself as he fished in his backpack for a pencil. Finally finding one, he sat upright in his seat and then focused on the finely cut pieces of dead tree in front of him.

_Question one_, he read silently to himself, _why do pre-mRNAs get smaller during RNA processing? _

Danny read the question over again, a blank expression gracing his features. He reread it once more, the words making about as much sense to him as the concept of life did to a five year old.

He rummaged through his brain for anything that remotely matched the question, but he could only come up with one answer:

_I'm screwed._

* * *

Slowly, Sam cracked open her eyes, losing the battle between sleeping and waking up. The light from the window shined in her eyes, and she buried her face back into her pillow with the groan.

_I'm not awake, I'm still dreaming...I'm not awake..._

But Sam regretfully realized that she needed to face the truth at some point in the morning or another. After all, she had school to attend.

_Speaking of which..._

Sluggishly, the college girl turned her head to stare up at her alarm clock on her bedside table. As much as she wished to never move again, Sam forced herself to do so with the least amount of enthusiasm possible.

And the instant she saw the time, her heart stopped. Her mind went blank. The fat lady sang. The cow jumped over the moon.

**7:12 A.M. **

She was late for her biology test.

_Oh, crap! _

In a blurred flourish, Sam sprung up from her bed and attempted to do what could be considered the impossible for any self-respecting female. Yet, by some stroke of luck, she somehow managed to dress in a semi-casual shirt and put on a small amount of purple eye shadow in under two minutes. Sam looked down at her black pajama pants and shrugged. She pulled on her shoes and grabbed her car keys, all the while praying that the professor would cut her some slack.

_I can't believe I overslept!_

* * *

The oversized wooden door to the room suddenly slammed open, and the sound echoed off the white walls. The testing students jerked up, for they were startled out of their train of thought.

And, as if on cue, a panicked college student barged through the door.

...A very _familiar_ college student.

Danny gazed at the girl with widened eyes, noting how she frantically power-walked to the professor's desk.

_Is that **Sam**?_

"I'm sorry I'm late!" she panted out, and she bent over, her hands on her knees. "I didn't mean to oversleep!"

_...Yep, that's Sam. _

_Huh, that's weird. I never noticed her in this class before._

Danny just shook his head before he returned to his test, sighing. _The one place I **don't** look, and there she is! _

_..I guess I could say hi to her after class...That sounds kinda fun._

_Of course, that's providing that I somehow survive this test. Should I start making up my final will and testament now? _

Meanwhile, the professor glanced at the panicking student before her with a look of disappointment. "Well, Miss Manson, I expect that this will not happen again, is that understood?"

Sam gratefully took the packet that Ms. Wilson held out to her. "Don't worry, it won't!"

The professor sighed as she watched Sam tiredly plod to the back of the room, all eyes on the student who had broken their concentration.

_Kids these days_, she shook her head. _They never plan ahead..._

* * *

Sam sat down in the very back of the classroom, and laid her backpack on the black-tiled floor.

_Okay, _she breathed deeply, _I can do this._

_I can pass this test that I barely studied for... I can do this..._

Unzipping the pocket on the side of her backpack, Sam pulled out a mechanical pencil and clicked the top. _I can do this..._

She snapped her attention back to the test, and stared down the intimidating pieces of paper before her with a hardened resolve.

_I am going to **ace** this test, and nothing will stop me! _

**Question 1: Why do pre-mRNAs get smaller during RNA processing? **

_...Except for that. _

Sam gulped back down the panic rising within her as she wracked her brain for the answer, glaring at the question before her.

_Oh, come **on**; I know this: __I **know** this! _

A tense moment passed in apprehensive silence before her memory kicked in, and spontaneously spelled out the answer. The moment it hit her, Sam frantically wrote it down and sighed in relief afterwards, her shoulders relaxing.

_This is going to be the **last **time I forget to study just before the test. _

_Okay, _she mentally prepped herself again, _now for question two..._

But while she read the question, Sam easily became distracted, for something caught her attention from out of the corner of her eye. Or rather, _someone _caught her attention.

Black, droopy hair...Blue eyes...and the most panicked expression she had ever seen.

_Oh my God...__is that Danny? _Sam narrowed her eyes, squinting to get a better view of her classmate.

But there was no mistake in her assumption; she was definitely staring at Danny, the guy who had helped her during her alcoholic misadventure.

_Huh, __that's odd. I never noticed him in this class before..._

Sighing pathetically, she tore her eyes away from the student two rows adjacent from her and reverted back to the test she had momentarily forgotten about.

However, as Sam tried to reread the second question, she found that the little concentration she had refused to focus. It seemed as though her thought process had honed in and trained on Danny, and she was having a had time re-directing it.

Gritting her teeth, she mentally kicked herself. _Why is that I always end up thinking about him anyway? It's not like he's anything special. _

And that was where her persuasion skills deserted her, for deep within the recesses of her mind, she knew that wasn't true.

There was something special about that guy, she could feel it. And as a self-proclaimed judge of humanity, Sam _knew_ it.

_First of all, _she reasoned, shoving the test in the back burners of her mind in favor of sorting her emotions, _most guys wouldn't help a hopelessly drunk girl. __They'd take advantage of her. __But Danny didn't; he even put up with my, uh...__**less **than normal personality..._She blushed.

That fact _alone_ set Danny far apart from over half of the male population at that college.

_Definitely_ a brownie point.

Thinking back to when she was at his apartment, Sam remembered seeing him diligently studying for a test, which she now guessed was for this one. _So, he's serious about college..._That counted as another brownie point in her eyes.

_**Although...**_She stole a glance at him once more, noting his panicked and stressed expression. _I don't think studying helped him any. _Sam just mentally shrugged though, and doodled on the corner of her paper. _Oh well, at least he tries..._

She tapped her pencil on the desk in deep thought. Sam had no idea why, but for some reason, she was..._Hmm...W__hat's a good word? _**Attracted** to Danny.

_Maybe he's someone worth getting to know..._

She unwittingly stole another glance at him.

_Maybe...__Maybe I'll go say hi after class..._

* * *

**11:00 A.M.**

* * *

"Your testing time is up!" A chipper voice tore its way through the brain of every student, snapping them back to reality. "All pencils down," the professor said happily, as if drinking in the inner panic of each unfinished student. "I'll be around momentarily to collect your papers."

And as she made her way around the room, all forty-five of her students blankly stared ahead of them, their eyes strangely unfocused and clouded.

It was obvious; they were clearly traumatized.

Formula after formula raced through the remaining neurons of their fried brains, as though the test was a broken record. Every few seconds, someone twitched subconsciously, and all were drained of the energy it would take to get up and hightail it away from their mind numbing nightmares.

Danny and Sam were no exception to this.

Both college students, who were ill-fated enough to be pupil to the toughest professor on campus, were in a similar state of shock. Sam's face was contorted with pain as she attempted to move her fingers, and failed miserably.

_That...__had to be one of the hardest tests I've **ever** taken..._

_I...__I can't feel my fingers..._

Sadly, this author could not elaborate on Danny's state of mind. For at that moment, he was incapable of completing coherent thought.

_...Cytosine...RMA processing...C-chicken s-soup..._ He twitched.

Luckily though, the professor finally realized the state of her students when she walked back to her desk and saw that none had made a move to get up. It _was_ the end of class, after all.

Ms. Wilson sighed. _This happens **every **time I hand out that test_...And so, setting the tests down on her red grading book, she walked over to the front of the room where her podium stood. Once there, she bent down and pulled out form the bottom shelf a book title, "The Complete History of Biology."

With a grunt, she stood back up, supporting the weight of the book with her arms as she walked to the center of the room.

_This ought to work nicely..._

Ms. Wilson lifted the eight pound book so that it was parallel with the floor, and held it there for a few seconds, her traumatized students blissfully unaware of what was to come.

And so, the professor slammed the book down.

_Bang! _

In that instant, her students' heads snapped back up with a jerk, as if coming out of their trance. A few shook their heads to clear away any lasting reminder of the test, and all of them seemingly realized that class was over.

"Man," one of them whispered distantly, "that was one _heck _of a test..."

Her friend replied with a transfixed voice, "You're telling me..." The girl rubbed her temples as she stood up. "...I still have a headache..."

A wave of murmurs wafted through the room as a semblance of normalcy returned to the students. They picked up their backpack and slowly made their way to the door as they all gossiped over the exam, checking over their answers with friends.

"- answer question 36! I got so confused that I-"

"..._Dude_, that was the hardest test-"

"- my brain will be _fried _for the next three days. I don't even know if-"

"And I didn't even finish the test, I froze up so-"

"- got two words for you: _Dain bramaged..."_

The professor watched as the majority of her class disappeared down the hall, their murmurs only a trace in Ms. Wilson's memory.

Only a handful of stragglers were left in the classroom, and they slowly shuffled to the door with the least amount of energy possible.

And among those stragglers, the professor noticed with a half-smile, was a student known by the name of Danny Fenton.

The boy plodded to the door, his hand loosely gripping his backpack. However, instead of walking into the hall, he slammed straight into the wall beside the door, initiating a rather painful communion that made the professor wince from just watching.

Yet the student barely acknowledged his lack of navigation skills as he re-directed his body to finally slip through the open door.

Ms. Wilson sighed. _There's something odd about that boy..._

* * *

Completely unaware of his surroundings, Danny slowly trudged down the hallway, as if he were still in a trance.

But what could he say? His brain had switched to auto-pilot.

_R-rma...__genetics..._Danny inwardly groaned as he tried to forget about the test, but to no avail. ..._Sam..._

_Sam..._Suddenly, that name struck a rusty switch in his brain, flipping it back to "manual."

_Oh my God...__**Sam**!_

He craned his neck from side to side, attempting to spot the girl from the side of the hallway. Ice blue eyes searched for a certain amethyst pair, and Danny felt slightly disappointed when he couldn't find her.

_Darn_, he sighed, running a hand through his hair, _I actually wanted to talk to her..._

With slightly fallen hopes, the college student trudged through the remaining crowds, still searching their faces for a familiar one. However, he still tried to mask his disappointment from anyone who could see it.

After all, nothing was less attractive than desperation.

Yet for some strange reason, Danny still couldn't explain exactly why he wanted to meet up with Sam. Call him crazy, but it was another on of his weird impulses that bothered him from the back of his mind. There was just something about her that intrigued him...

...And he was driving himself out of his mind trying to figure out what it was.

_Let it be known, _he admitted ruefully, _that for the first time in his life, Danny Fenton is genuinely interested in a girl._

He didn't know whether to feel excited or terrified.

"Danny?"

A female voice to his right snapped him out of his reverie, and he wheeled around to face the speaker. "Wha...?"

And to his utmost surprise, amethyst eyes stared back into his, a sense of relief glimmering within them.

_S-Sam?_

"H-hi, Sam!" he squeaked out in surprise and in an unexpected bout of awkwardness.

"Finally! I've been looking for you everywhere," she told Danny, her voice slightly breathless from running to catch up with him.

"...Really?" he asked hopefully. _Eager much, Fenton? _But something in the back of his brain forced him to be suspicious. "What for?"

That stopped Sam in her tracks. Really, why _was_ she looking for him? "Uh..." was all that her normally intelligent mind could think up.

_Well, so much for that 130 IQ, _she thought.

But then an idea hit her. "I still needed to give you back the clothes you lent me last week," she replied quickly. Of course, that wasn't really the truth, but it _was_ a really good excuse. She had been meaning to give Danny his clothes back anyway...

"Oh," Danny said awkwardly, a sinking feeling of disappointment in his heart. _That's it?_

"So, when did you want them back?" Sam continued to walk alongside her fellow classmate, finally settling into a more comfortable mindset around him.

"Oh, I don't know," he dug his hands into his jean pockets. "Whenever, really."

"Well," Sam said as she stared at the watch on her wrist, "I have a class to go to in about five minutes or so, but I could come by your apartment later on today and drop it off..." She looked back up at Danny. "Would that be okay?"

"Sure," Danny shrugged casually.

Yet despite their good-natured small talk, both could pinpoint a certain degree of awkwardness and embarrassment. After all, they had met under rather strange circumstances. And the fact that they were talking about Danny's _boxers_ didn't exactly remedy the situation.

_Let's face it_, Danny grimaced, _I'm doomed to die of embarrassment..._

"So..." Sam drawled out the syllable, trying to break up the tension in the air. "I guess I'll see ya later on this afternoon?"

Her steps fell out of sync with Danny's as she turned towards the glass doors lining the hallway, highly aware that she was going to be late to her next class if she didn't get her butt in gear.

"Darnit, I'm not gonna make it in time..." she hurriedly explained to him, her eyes officially glued to her watch. "I'll see you around, Danny."

And she began pushing herself through the doors, but then the sound of Danny's voice stopped her.

"Wait!" he called after her. "Do you remember which apartment is mine?"

Sam whirled around, her mind rummaged through her data banks fo the number. "Uh...it's 117, right?"

Danny nodded as he leaned against the cement wall and waved a goodbye. "Just checking...Bye, Sam!"

"Bye," and with that, Sam once again rushed outside.

Sighing, Danny leaned the back of his head against the cool cement, and watched as Sam disappeared around the corner of the building.

_Now, with any luck, Tucker cleaned the apartment so that it doesn't look like a tornado hit it..._

_But then again_, Danny thought, _Tucker's idea of cleaning is freeing up disk space on his computer desktop..._

He pushed off the wall with his foot, and continued walking until he reached the doors that led to his next class.

Yet the moment he placed his head on the silver doorknob, a blue stream of smoke escaped from his lips in a cold flurry. Danny instantly shivered from the involuntary action, cool shocks racing up his spine and into his brain.

_Ah, dammit..._

His hand hovered over the doorknob in a second's hesitation before he began reacting to his apparent situation.

And as Danny dropped his backpack and searched for a deserted corridor, his brain could only focus on the fact that he would have his hands full when it came to keeping Sam in the dark about his secret. Even if she disappeared from his life after that evening, the small time frame that she _would_ be around him could definitely end in disaster. After all, he never knew when his enemies would strike...

He'd have to keep his distance. Even if part of him really didn't _want_ to do that, he knew he would have to.

_I mean...how would she react to that? She'd hate me..._

_No matter what ...__I can't let her find out..._

_I can't let Sam find out who I **really** am..._

* * *

oOoOo...

* * *

_Omg...So long, so long...(shrivels up and dies...)_

_I think my hands are permanently glued to the keyboard._

_Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. I have worked my butt off during this last week in hopes that maybe I could make it up to you for not updating since December... (cringes.)_

_Speaking of which, do you remember in some of the earlier chapters I said that this story would only be like four chapters long? Well, screw that...I've got another idea, and I'm gonna run with it! So, this story will probably now be about 8 or 9 chapters..._

_So, did ya like it? Have I still lived up to your expectations?_

_Oh, and by the way: **Please review! It inspires me to know that people really do care about this story! Pretty please? **_

_Thanks,_

_Lightning Streak_


	5. Cafe Cliche

_Disclaimer: Lightning Streak does not own Danny Phantom._

_Yes! I updated!_

* * *

**Theoretically Illogical**

**Chapter 5: Café Cliché**

* * *

Danny paced the room for the umpteenth time that afternoon, his blue eyes flickering to the window every few seconds.

_Come on, Sam! _he mentally urged to the college student who had yet to show up. _You should have been here by now!_

His eyes tore away from the window and trained on the clock that rested on a mantle. 5:17 P.M.

_She's late, she's late, she's late…_

_Sam's late. _

But then, Danny's train of thought stopped in its tracks as he realized just how worked up he was over the simple visit. In any case, he forced to himself to take a deep breath to relax.

_I just…I just need to chill,_ he told himself, running a hand through his dark hair.

_Why am I getting so tense over this anyway? _

Danny surveyed the room with a critical eye, completely disregarding his earlier statements to calm down. For in an attempt to impress, he had cleaned (Yes Ladies and Gentlemen, you read correctly: _cleaned_) the apartment.

…It was truly a sad day indeed.

Even Tucker had teased him earlier that day, saying that even the _carpet _(which had seen the end of many a cigarette bud from previous owners) was clean enough to eat off of.

All in all, that was saying a lot, and unfortunately, Danny wasn't quite sure if that was good or bad.

_…I wonder what's taking so long? _

A realization hit him as his thoughts grew more and more anxious. _Oh dear God…I'm losing my mind. _

Sighing at his own pathetic life, Danny plopped down on the couch, determined to not drive himself crazy.

_At the rate I'm going, I'll be running to Jazz for therapy, _he thought ruefully.

And it was at that exact moment that Fate decided to further torture his frazzled nerves.

The doorbell rang.

Danny jumped the second the second he heard the noise, obviously startled.

_Is that Sam? _

The college student reminded his heart to beat again as he surrendered his spot on the couch in favor of opening the door. And as he turned the golden-tarnished doorknob, he came face to face with a slightly nervous Sam.

"Hey Danny," she said softly, tightly clutching a bag in her hands.

"Hi, Sam," Danny replied, equally nervous. And then the idea popped into his brain for him to step aside to open a walkway for Sam.

"Would you like to come in?"

"Uh," Sam stuttered uncomfortably, "sure…" And as she walked into the apartment. Danny shut the heavy door behind her.

Sensing an upcoming awkward moment, Sam babbled, "Sorry I was late coming over…You see, I got caught in the middle of rush hour and you know how that is…"

Danny cracked a goofy smile. "Yeah, I know how you feel. One time, I spent almost an hour and a half just to get from one end of the campus to another."

"Ouch," Sam sympathized. "Sounds like a painful experience."

"Oh, it was," the boy agreed whole-heartedly, nodding his head. "I was close to tearing my hair out by the time traffic finally started moving." His eyes strayed to the plastic bag swaying in Sam's loose grip. "Umm…is that-?"

"-Uh, yeah!" She lifted the black bag up and handed it off to Danny. "I'm sorry it took forever to give these back to you," she babbled (again.) "I guess I just got caught up in my school work, and, uh…yeah…"

Danny shrugged in an attempt to act casual (and to hide the fact that he was blushing.) "Eh, it's okay. I sort of forgot about it myself."

_…Not, _he added mentally. _You know, I could be an incredibly good liar. _

_Unfortunately, I don't know if that's exciting or depressing. _

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Sam tried to get herself to relax. After all, Danny was actually a nice guy, and kinda fun to be around (unless you're talking about his boxers, of course.)

However, before either of them could launch into a more traditional conversation, Fate struck once again…

…Once again, it was through Tucker.

At the sound of an opening door, both Sam and Danny wheeled around to see their fellow classmate sleepily venture out from his bedroom.

With a growing smile, Danny greeted his roommate. "Evenin', Sleeping Beauty!" he teased him. "Did ya get enough rest?"

In that instant, Tucker turned bloodshot eyes towards Danny, and managed to reply with an intelligent, "Ugh."

The man was obviously sleep-deprived.

Danny raised an eyebrow at his roommate and replied, "_Okay_…" _Probably not good to get on his bad side tonight…_

Sam, meanwhile, inwardly laughed at the two, and asked, "Does he always sleep this late in the day? Or is this a special occasion?"

"Well, only when he has to work late nights at the technology club, fixing some bug or something," Danny replied easily. "Since he's the president, it's sort of his job to keep things running…"

With that said, Sam's features took on a look of enlightenment. "Oh…" _So, Tucker's a techno-geek…_

_That's strangely fitting. _

Barely concealing a yawn, Tucker trudged by them with a stumbling stride of a barely conscious individual. Yet as he passed by, in his own curious stupor, the man couldn't help but stare at the bag Danny was holding.

He peeked one look inside the bag, and saw the most curious object inside. Unfortunately, Tucker could not figure out _why_ Danny was carrying his boxers around with a girl in the house, and so he resorted to a classic line. "Remind me to ask you about this when I'm more awake," he said sleepily to his roommate.

And with that, he plodded away, leaving two blushing college students behind.

A tense silence settled between the two.

"Well…" Sam coughed, clearing her throat. "I guess…I guess I better get going." She nervously scratched her elbow, her ability to speak tongue-tied in knots.

Sadly, Danny wasn't much better.

"Actually…Well, I…" he stuttered out in natural awkwardness. He almost didn't know what to say to her, and his lack of experience with women came back smack him in the face.

He wanted to ask her, but just couldn't find the words to say it.

Then, it hit him.

A light bulb magically appeared in his brain, and Danny's baby blue eyes lit up with the idea. "Uh…H-hey, Sam!"

Said girl, who had started towards the door, turned around with a questioning expression. "Yeah?"

_Oh God…please don't let me mess this up, _Danny prayed silently.

"…Well," he started bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was wondering…" His hopeful eyes met her's, "if you wanted to go to the café with me?"

…And then there was silence.

Sam blinked, mostly out of surprise. _Did he just ask me out…? _Hesitantly, she pieced together the intelligent response of, "…Café?"

The other college student slowly began to feel his hopes drop, Sam's reply anything but encouraging. "It's okay," he babbled quickly. "You don't have to got if you don't want to." A strange sense of disappointment chilled him, but he couldn't exactly place why. "I just…You know, I just thought I'd ask…"

_Foot in mouth. _

Luckily, in that moment, Sam seemed to snap herself back to reality. She desperately attempted to cover up her (rather embarrassing) moment of blankness. "Oh no, I didn't mean it that way!" she said quickly, "I just didn't know there was even a café around here…"

_Way to go Manson! _She mentally cringed. _You've officially reached an all new level of stupid!_

Strangely though, Danny's eyes seemed to brighten with her words, and he said to her, "Well, on the outskirts of the campus, there's this café. It's completely run by college students, and it's a really cool place to hang out." He gave her a shy, sideways glance. "Good food too."

A small moment passed in silence before Sam awkwardly rubbed her shoulder, thinking over Danny's proposition. _…Well, I guess I have nothing to lose. _

"Sure," she replied finally, although she worried that the whole thing would be awkward. "I'd love to go."

In response, Danny visibly relaxed. "Great!" he smiled, but then glanced at the clock. 5:46 P.M, otherwise known to his stomach as dinner time.

He turned back to face Sam, his own expression completely serious. "Would you like to go now or later?"

"Uh…How 'bout now?" Sam really didn't know what else to say, but her stomach had certainly made up its mind. It was hungry, and Sam couldn't deny that her body had needed to eat for over an hour.

"Well then, let's go!" He pulled a key off one of the kitchen counters, and jammed his wallet into his back pocket. "I'm starving, and I'm sure that the café won't be busy at this time of day."

Sam smiled, her own stature relaxing at his words. "Food does sound good right now," she easily admitted. "…But you're so paying."

"Wouldn't have any other way," he said, smiling.

* * *

They decided to walk down to the campus, for the traffic was awful, and it was an awfully beautiful day. The sun had yet to set, but traces of purple and red had begun to infiltrate the sky, and a cool breeze flew through the air, softening the warm rays of the sun.

Both were in a mutual silence, content in enjoying the peace of nature.

The café was on the very edge of campus, just like Danny said, and was only a ten minute walk away.

It was rather a quaint little restaurant, with an air of home around it. Danny explained to her while they were walking that it was a big, renovated log cabin that students themselves relocated and rebuilt with extra rooms as an architectural project.

In any case, it planted a smile on Sam's face.

Danny held open the oak wood door for her, and she graciously walked into the secluded little haven of deli delicacies.

And instantly, she was bombarded with the most wonderful smell that wafted through the air.

"Wow," she breathed, impressed. "This place is really nice…"

"Isn't it?" Danny agreed. "The Dean always says that the students who rebuilt it should graduate with honors. And quite frankly, I agree." He held the door open for another person who was walking in, and then quickly caught back up with Sam.

The café, also known as "that log cabin on 86th street" and "the deli haven," was actually called The Waffle House. Now this name was incredibly misleading because the restaurant didn't actually sell waffles, but one of the students had called it that originally, and the name stuck.

The interior was very inviting, with deep oak stained walls and black floor boards. As Sam looked closer, the floor boards were carved in intricate designs. And it was needless to say: the fireplace in the corner had an air of invitation, with the deep glow that emitted from the flames. The glass windows were stained slightly darker than normal so that the outside didn't interfere with the atmosphere, and deeply-colored ceramic lights hung from the ceilings.

In essence, it was the perfect little get-away of a coffee house.

Danny led Sam to one of the booths by the windows, and he let her choose which side she wanted. He plopped down onto the other side, and leaned his elbows on the table. "Well," he paused with an almost sheepish tone, "I know things are kinda weird between us 'cause of how we met, but I figured maybe we could start over…?"

_God knows that having a stranger wake up in your apartment wasn't a good start…_he mentally rationalized.

At that, Sam's eyebrows rose. "Start over?" She paused for a moment. "By doing _what_?"

_There's no way I'm ever gonna get drunk again…_

"By doing this." A quick moment passed as Danny cleared his throat. "Hi," he said lightly, holding his hand out. "I'm Danny Fenton, and I'm majoring in aerospace physics."

Sam didn't answer for a moment, but her lips twitched upwards in a smile. Finally, she let loose a little laugh, and shook Danny's strong hand over the table. "Samantha Manson, majoring in photography. But call me Sam."

"It's nice to meet you, Sam," Danny smiled, his words genuine.

"It's nice to meet you too." And for the first time, Sam noticed that Danny had a really nice smile.

"So tell me," he prompted, leaning his elbows on the table once more, "how you came across such a small place like Amity Park."

And off they went.

* * *

A cup of coffee, a glass of hot tea, and three hours later found the college students still chatting in the café. They were having a surprisingly good time, and were not even aware that their waitress periodically shot them dirty looks for hogging one of her tables.

Ah, yes, they made pretty good friends…

"And so I asked my sister why she refused to open the refrigerator," Danny was saying to Sam, his tone light and carefree. His hands waved in the air as he told his story, and Sam found herself hanging on his every word. "And, unfortunately, I realized too late that I probably shouldn't have opened the fridge door while she was screaming at me not too…"

"Why?"

The male sighed at his own stupidity. "Because the moment I turned to see what Jazz was yelling about, I got attacked by vicious, mutated hot dogs."

At that, Sam let loose a small laugh, her eyes lit with perfect content. "You got attacked by a _hot dog_? Sounds like it must have been interesting to live with parents who're inventors," she said casually, "judging from your stories."

Danny nodded in return, his eyes wide in agreement, and a lethargic smile on his face. "Yeah, it was…" His smile grew wider. "Still is, actually…"

_In more ways than one…_

"Well," he drawled out, picking around with what was left of his hamburger, "I can honestly say that I'm practically stuffed…"

Sam looked down at her huge, mutilated salad, distantly noticing how half of it remained to be eaten. "They've got big proportions here, don't they?" she asked, stating a rather obvious (but sarcastically funny) observation.

"Yep," Danny hummed in agreement. "I don't think I'll be able to eat for the next three days."

"Can't say I'll be able to either," the female admitted. "Although it _was_ worth it to gorge myself. You apparently weren't kidding when you said it had good food…"

_I'll have to come back and have another salad sometime, _she decided happily.

"Yeah," he said airily, "I sure-"

But suddenly, he cut himself off, a horrified visage replacing his happiness. A trail of smoke popped out from Danny's mouth (to which he further clamped a hand over) and a small shiver coursed down the man's spine.

It happened so quickly that Sam didn't see much of anything. But in the few seconds that followed, she got to thinking_…What in the world? _

Why was Danny suddenly acting so strangely?

…Was it really _that_ cold in the place?

"Uh, Danny? …A-are you okay?" Sam inquired hesitantly, certain that she missed out on something important. _What was that? _

And Danny, who had been desperately trying to hide his panic, uncovered his mouth as soon as he was sure it was safe to. _Ah, dammit…_he mentally groaned. _Not **again**! _The childish part of him suddenly had the desire to scream and stomp with his realization.

He stood up from the booth, and forced himself to quickly explain, "Hey, Sam? I'm so sorry, but I've got to go…" He slapped a twenty onto the table, thinking, _I really hate to do this…_

Sam, still left in the dark, cocked her head to the side in befuddlement. "But why?" Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's wrong?" Her perceptive eyes caught the wild and nervous expression painted onto Danny's face, and she couldn't help but wonder why his personality suddenly changed.

Wracking his brain for an excuse, Danny lamely finished with, "I forgot I had to do something…"

…And with that said, he mentally slapped himself. _Dammit, _he cursed. _I take back what I said earlier: I can't lie to save my soul…_

The female obviously didn't really believe him, but she had no idea what to say in return. Just a slight, disappointed, "Oh," escaped her lips.

Danny knew that Sam's reaction wasn't the best in the world, but what could he do? He cast an apprehensive look over his shoulder, and turned to look back his friend. "I'm sorry, Sam," he pleaded. "But I have to go."

And as Sam opened her mouth to protest, Danny interrupted with a "I'll make it up to you!" line, and crusaded off towards the café doors in a panic.

He left Sam there by herself, sitting alone at the booth.

_…_

..._Well, _she thought blankly after a few minutes, _this sucks. _

Although she still wasn't quite sure what had happened in the last few minutes of her life, Sam knew something was up.

She just didn't know what.

_Most guys don't just spend three hours with a friend, and then randomly have to leave, _she contemplated with sharp logic. _And he was in such a rush, too. _

She huffed, both irritated and worried. _At least he had the sense to leave me a twenty, _she deadpanned, picking up the folded bill off the table.

Sam's violet eyes (although the student would never admit to it) had strangely grown sadder; a darker shade of purple. She couldn't help that her eyes naturally gravitated back to the closing doors where she had seen Danny run out.

And as she neatly unfolded the twenty, her mind refused to coordinate with her common sense. An almost sick feeling of dread and disappointment had overcome her, and it distorted her thoughts. Why did Danny just leave so suddenly?

What would make him just drop everything?

And then, it hit her with the impact worthy of a slap to the face.

_That horrified expression, that way he ran out of here… It was like he had forgotten to meet somebody…_

_Is it possible…?_

_…Does Danny have a girlfriend?_

And with that realization, Sam suddenly felt like barfing up her dinner.

* * *

_o.O.o_

* * *

_…Please don't kill me!_

_Well, I can honestly say that I have a good reason as to why I've taken so much time getting this chapter out! First of all, my school just had a play, and I was in a lot of parts, so I didn't have time after practices to write. (This had been going on since January, so all of my chapters, even Chained, have been sluggish.)_

_Then, I had a HUGE test in one of my hardest classes, and I've been having to study for that in all of my spare time. (I did learn that I passed it, however! YAY!)_

_But now that all of that's done and over with, I can start back up with Fanfiction again!_

_I really am sorry that it takes me so long to update. I know that's incredibly unfair to you guys, but I'm seriously trying! A tight schedule and writer's block just don't mix very well, though…_

_In any case, however, I tried to make this chapter sound half-way decent. Chances are I'll come back to it and revise a little later since I haven't yet. I wanted to get it out as soon as possible, just for you guys!_

_So, what did you think?_

**1.) Did this chapter have a generally good flow of words, or should I work more on my sentence structures? **

**2.) Are the characters still interesting and, for the most part, still adding a fair share to the building of the plot?**

**3.) Are there any scenes or certain places in the chapter that seem out of place or slightly confusing? **

**4.) Are the characters' thoughts realistic, or too generic? Is there any way that I could improve on this? **

**5.) Was the ending too rushed, or did it provide a good cliff-hanger? **

_Thank you so much for hanging in there for me. I'm gonna try to get the next chapter of this out by April, so wish me luck!_

_Oh, and if you can, please review! I read every single one I get, and I can't tell you how much I've appreciate all of your support!_

_Lightning Streak_

_**…So please? Drop me a review:)**_


	6. Murphy's Law

_Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own DP._

_Oh my gosh, I'm actually updating again this month! I'm on a roll!...For me, at least. _

_I hope you enjoy! _

* * *

**Theoretically Illogical**

**Chapter 6: Murphy's Law**

* * *

A week had passed since Danny had taken Sam out to the Waffle House, and still the female found herself in a state of mental limbo. A part of her was still upset over the whole thing, yet another part of her desperately wished to hear from Danny again.

She hadn't heard from him since that day.

Was it true, then? Did Danny actually have a girlfriend?

Sam, despite her campus-renowned independence from all people, had continuously contemplated that thought. It bugged her to think that she couldn't get Danny out of her mind, but then it also bugged her that she didn't know what was really going on.

Even if he _did_ have a girlfriend and had just meant the dinner as a friendly gesture, wouldn't he have at least _mentioned_ his girlfriend?

It was just silly thoughts like that which now bombarded her mind, and they had become almost annoying, really.

Sam honestly didn't understand why she couldn't let the whole thing go. She had had a fun time while Danny and her talked over dinner, and she could say that she learned a lot about him, and vice versa. She considered him a good friend.

But when he left like that, so suddenly too, it left her wondering why.

…Was she jealous?

With that thought out in the open, Sam rolled her eyes. _I'm not jealous or anything…I don't even know if he even __**has**__ a girlfriend! _

_…No, of course not. I'm not jealous. _

_Not at all. _

But she gripped the steering wheel tighter as the thought buried itself in her mind, and her knuckles turned white with the amount of force.

She was driving.

Earlier that day, she had gotten a call from her butler, saying that her parents had returned from their trip to Brazil, and that they requested her presence. She obviously couldn't say no- after all, she only saw her parents once or twice a year- but she really did _not_ want to go.

And so, in order to stall for time, she had decided to choose the longest, most timely route possible back to downtown Amity Park. Unfortunately, she hadn't counted on Murphy's Laws to haunt her.

Having taken a back road, she completely forgot to check the map (after all, Amity Park was just one big mass of winding roads) and had suddenly found she didn't recognize where she was.

She had gotten lost.

The roads began to slowly seem foreign, and she couldn't figure out where she was. Of course, she should have expected that: she'd never tried the back roads before.

But, as the minutes wore on and her situation didn't improve, Sam felt herself lose confidence. Not being a native to Amity Park, the idea of being lost was actually scary.

The roads seemed to grow even more unrecognizable with every mile, and became all the more winding. Her car didn't have a star sixty-nine, and Sam knew that with all the trees around, she wouldn't get any service on her cell phone.

Then, to top her troubles, her car decided to have a break down.

Ten minutes into being lost, the Mercedes suddenly roared with an awful sputter and died, right there in the middle of the street.

It was the equivalent of Murphy's number one Law: Anything that _could _go wrong _would_ go wrong.

_God, this is not my day…_She dropped her head against the steering wheel (effectively activating the car's blaring horn) and resisted pulling her hair. She really didn't want this to be happening; it _couldn't _be happening. All she had wanted was a little quiet time before she walked into the Lion's Den.

And what'd she get for her troubles? A looming anxiety attack and a dead car.

Life just _wasn't_ fair.

And so, with a small groan, Sam straightened from her stressed position. _Let's just get this over with…_She took a deep breath in the hopes that it could calm her nerves, and it didn't work very well.

Actually, _nothing_ seemed to be working very well.

She pushed open her door, and hopped out, slamming the car door behind her as hard as she could. Sam half expected the handle to fall off, just for kicks.

When it didn't though, she instantly redirected her attention to the engine. Like a vulture swooping down to attack its prey, she marched to the front of the car and yanked open the hood.

A cloud of hot air blasted her in the face.

"Oh my God; I'm going to _kill_ something…"

It was a mess. The engine had obviously overheated, and Sam wasn't sure, but it looked like it could take hours before it was back in working order.

She was stuck.

_Yep… Something's going to die. _

Exhaling a very long breath, Sam attempted to calm down. Her temples pulsed with an oncoming headache, and she gritted her teeth, closing her eyes.

Unfortunately, it looked like she wasn't gonna calm down any time soon.

She looked down at her deep purple watch, and noticed the time. 2.17 P.M. She winced, remembering the message her butler had told her. _**"They are expecting you by 2 o' cock sharp, Miss Samantha…"**_

_Well damn._

_I guess I'm late now too._

* * *

It was 2:26 by the time Danny had defeated his opponent.

This, unfortunately, was not his best time by any means (fifteen seconds was all he needed for some), but then again this _wasn't _the Box Ghost.

It had been some crazy old dead woman, who was strangely obsessed with selling random objects. In the course of their short fight, the ghost had tried to sell him someone's car, a park bench, and her own dentures. (Actually, he almost went for the car once he saw it was a Lamborghini. But then he realized that, under the circumstances, not only would the transaction be illegal, but he would also have to explain _where _he got it.)

It was a tough decision, but he declined buying the car and then decidedly shot the ghost with an ectoplasmic blast.

This of course made the dead woman one mad individual, and she fitfully shot him back, pinning him to a wall with a rope and a price tag.

The ghost saleswoman then attempted to auction _Danny_ off to a random passerby, who, luckily, took one look at the ghost-lady's face and screamed bloody murder. (Danny winced when he saw them lose control of their car and run into a stop sign).

He supposed that no one would be buying him anytime soon.

So, as soon as the woman was distracted, Danny shot from his restraints like a psychopath from his straightjacket and proceeded to whip out the infamous Fenton Thermos.

She actually dodged the rays a few times and led him on a wild goose chase all across town. He raced through the skies over the Nasty Burger, Casper High, and even the Fenton home, flying eventually out into the suburbs. And those suburbs eventually spread out into the country.

His top speed clocked at over one-hundred and eighty miles per hour, it took less than a few minutes to catch up with the ghost. And when he did, the fight was basically over.

One invisible move, a fast-paced swing, and a Fenton Thermos later, the ghost was defeated, and was currently residing within a glowing soup container. Danny closed the cap, and sealed the saleswoman from attempting another mediocre sales pitch.

He sighed. _All in a day's work, I guess…_

The past few days had been crazy as far as attacks went. One attack here, another attack on the other side of town, and yet another somewhere by the pier. Danny, as a self-proclaimed ghost hunter, barely had enough time to eat and sleep, let alone go to his classes.

It was just one of those weeks, he supposed, although realizing that didn't make it any easier. Everywhere he turned, there was something wrong. And it just seemed to cross his path no matter where he went.

Take the crazy old ghost saleswoman for example. She could have been anywhere in the world, _anywhere_! And yet somehow she'd crossed her path with his, and wasted a good twelve minutes of his life.

Talk about the welcoming wagon.

Danny let out a soft sigh, the air twirling the bangs in his eyes. _I guess it's too late to back to class…_

_I'll just cut. _Being the procrastinator that he was, Danny opted for the easy way out and decided that missing Physics 101 for just one day wouldn't kill him.

He hoped.

He glanced up at the sun, trying to gauge what time it was. This really wasn't his most favorite way of finding out, but he had unfortunately left his watch on his bedside table. By the time the sun blinded him, however, he managed to guess the time was right around 2:30.

Going back to school almost wouldn't be worth it, in that case. He decided to take the rest of the day off.

Shouldering the Fenton Thermos, he easily slung the strap across his chest and then floated down closer to the ground, swooping down like a graceful bird.

He loved flying.

Now, if there was one thing that made being a half-ghost worth it, it was flying. Danny believed that even the freakishly-obsessed ghosts he fought on a daily basis would agree with him on that topic, and he was even confident enough to say the power of flight could brighten anyone's day considerably.

It definitely brightened _his_ days, at any rate.

As a matter of fact, the power of flying was so incredibly mind-warping that school completely slipped from Danny's mind. Of course, he already had a tendency to do that occasionally, and his professors had opted for the explanation of ADD. Or at least the attention span of a gnat.

Not that they needed to know the truth or anything.

The wind whispered past his ears, laughing with its silent voice and inviting him to the skies. _My physics professor would __**flip**__ if he knew the truth about me, _he thought with a smirk. With a loop-de-loop, he swung up over the trees and zigzagged through the wide branches. _Although I suppose he might give me a little more slack… _

_I bet __**he'd**__ skip school too if he could fly. _

His ghost half, a complete accident in the beginning, had become something that Danny wondered if he could ever live without. Through the years and the awkwardness, the power had begun to fit like a glove, and it sort of became his own little escape from reality.

Sure, the _responsibility_ of it all was his. But then, so was the fun.

His snow white locks flew back with the wind, revealing his mischievous emerald eyes. And, although the sun had currently fallen behind clouds, he maintained his own glow, as if the sun shined just for him.

Danny did a few more aerial spins, just to satisfy the astronaut within, and then spiraled upwards into the reappearing sunrays. _I guess I'd better at least make my way back. _

He surveyed the landscape below, noting the wide forests and the country-like atmosphere. Yep; he was _definitely _in Amity's boondocks.

_Eh, _he shrugged, _oh well. More flight time, I guess. _

Yet as he happily flew through the clouds, Danny noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Someone was stopped on the side of the highway, he casually noted.

A small column of smoke protruded from the hood of the car (it looked like a Mercedes), and the apparent owner was frantically pacing back and forth, a cell phone in her hand.

Out of curiosity, Danny narrowed his eyes a bit to see better, slowing his speed. He pushed his bangs out of his vision, and then focused on the owner, who strangely looked familiar. _Who is that? _he wondered curiously.

And then, it hit him.

The ghost abruptly jerked up, his emerald eyes wide. _No way! _He skidded to a silent stop just above the tree line, and had to catch himself from pitching forward, startled by his discovery.

_Is that…?_

_…Is that __**Sam?**_

Danny peered closer, leaning forward. The pacing woman wore all black, which contrasted against her incredibly pale skin, and she occasionally muttered obscenities to her car. She looked up at the sky, and Danny quickly hid behind a tree, turning himself invisible.

The moment he saw her face, he knew it was Sam.

She looked up at the clouds, as if grudgingly pleading for help. Danny frowned, glancing at her car, which looked like it'd seen better days. Had the engine overheated or something?

_Doesn't look good, whatever happened…_His eyes flickered back to the girl, who carried the look of ultimate distress.

_I wonder why she's even out here? This isn't even __**close**__ to the college…_

Despite being in ghost form, part of Danny wanted to find out what was going on...Maybe he could help?

If only he could…

He supposed he could transform back, but then Sam would wonder where he'd come from. _I mean, we're out in the country... And I don't think that would go over well... _It wasn't like he could just randomly appear out of nowhere, that was for sure.

But still…he couldn't just leave her in the middle of the boondocks! That was just _asking_ for trouble. The protective side of Danny knew that Sam wasn't safe out there.

First of all, she was _alone_; that within itself wasn't the best of situations, especially for a pretty girl like her.

The college student felt a sense of déjà vu overcome his brain.

_Whoa…Has this happened before? _

His mind backtracked to the night he met Sam. Where she was alone. And drunk. And basically unable to get home.

_Yep. This has happened before…_

A sardonic smile teased Danny's lips_. I guess Sam just can't look after herself, can she? _He pondered amusedly.

For here she was, in need of help once again.

But the smile on his face quickly disappeared. _This is also a bad spot for ghosts…_

_She **really** isn't safe here, _he decided. He peered closer as she tried to call on her cell phone. _And it looks like she'd be stuck here for a while if I **didn't **help. _The soft breeze that wound through the leaves rustled his bangs and whispered along his skin, carrying with it a forewarning of the ghosts that could possibly be around.

And so, gathering his courage, Danny decided to risk it. He'd try to help in his ghost form, and if she was afraid of him, then so be it.

However, he'd forgotten about Fate.

For, within that moment, his ghost sense suddenly flared to life. And as he jerked back into battle mode, he noticed a green, glowing light behind him.

He could just _feel_ that evil grin.

Danny flipped around just in time to get hit with an ectoplasmic blast, courtesy of another God-forsaken ghost.

_**Bam! **_

Caught soundly in the chest, the unfortunate half-ghost was sent flying backwards through the trees, the wind knocked out of him. His body broke through tree limbs, slashed through leaves...

...And then, he found himself barreling uncontrollably towards an unknowing Sam.

_Oh, __**shit! **_

His mind just barely keeping up with his body, Danny tried to swerve away, go intangible, do _something_, but his body wouldn't obey his commands.

He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed. _I hope this doesn't hurt...!_

* * *

It was the strangest thing.

Sam had just been pacing back and forth on the side of the highway, her pale features twisted into an anxious scowl, when the oddest thing happened.

An rustle sound from the trees had caught her attention, and she jerked her head to locate the sound. A sickening green glow suddenly appeared through the trees, and it whistled with an evil energy. Then, it shot out in a flash, striking something unseen to her eyes. Whatever it was, it yelped in surprise.

However, here was the strangest part: _something_ came shooting out of the trees, barreling straight for her.

Her eyes widened in alarm, but she didn't have time to react. She froze in her spot.

_What the__-?_

Sam had no idea what hit her until she felt a flailing body ram into her side, knocking her to the ground.

Time stopped. Time sped up.

Time blurred.

"_Ack!"_ She felt the wind literally fly from her lungs as she flipped through the air, her feet sweeping out from under her. Her cell phone flew from her hands, and she crashed onto the grass and gravel. Whatever, er… _whoever_, had hit her had fallen much in the same way, his tall body somehow landing right on top of her's.

Confused, disoriented, and breathless, Sam tried to recoup from being knocked over. She inhaled a quick breath. She opened her eyes…

…And she found herself staring up into the brightest green eyes she had ever seen.

_Oh my God..._

Time stopped.

* * *

_o.O.o.O.o._

* * *

_Wow, I'm sorry it took me over two months to update this...I know, I'm horrible! (gets hit by a flying tomato.)_

_In any case, I just hope you guys liked it. I tried as hard as I could to accurately describe the last scene, but I felt like it just wasn't up to par. So, eventually I just gave it my best shot and left it at that. I also tried to incorporate more humor, so I hope that went over well._

_But anyways, if you're up to it, I have my ritualistic interrogation! Muhuhahaha! (I sincerely thank anyone who answers these questions. I'm trying to become a better writer by finding my weaknesses, and any feedback I get greatly helps!)_

**1.) Did this chapter have a generally good flow of words, or should I work more on my sentence structures? **

**2.) Are the characters still interesting and, for the most part, still adding a fair share to the building of the plot?**

**3.) Are there any scenes or certain places in the chapter that seem out of place or slightly confusing? **

**4.) Are the characters' thoughts realistic, or too generic? Is there any way that I could improve on this? **

**5.) Was the ending too rushed, or did it provide a good cliff-hanger? **

_So thank you, once again, for reading. I hope you enjoyed it! _

_Lightning Streak_

**Oh, and if you can, please review!** :)** Reviews make the world go round!**


	7. Ghost

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom.

…Wow…Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews:) I couldn't write without you guys.

* * *

**Theoretically Illogical**

**Chapter 7: Ghost**

* * *

Suddenly, those emerald eyes blinked. "Uh…hi?" the person said breathlessly.

Sam, unsure of what else to say, responded with her own breathless, "Hi…" Her breath was still winded, and her mind still disoriented, but she was acutely aware that whoever ran into her was a guy.

And he was still on top of her.

"You okay?" his tenor voice broke into her thoughts.

"Yeah," she assured distantly, her eyes still distracted by his.

Almost clumsily, the man tried to detangle himself from her limbs, but miserably failed. "I'm sorry about this," he apologized, a light blush dusting his features. His lips were just inches from her own, and his weight still pressed against her's.

Talk about awkward situations.

Sam pulled her act together as fast as she could, her brain finally reconnecting with her body. And with sluggish movements, she managed to untangle her left arm from his, a blush rising on her own face.

"Uh…it's not your fault?" she returned helpfully. Sam untwisted her right arm from his, and almost reluctantly, he lifted himself off her. Then, with some spin, he was back on his feet. He offered a gloved, glowing hand, and she gratefully took it, barely containing a yelp when he seemingly lifted her up like a feather.

And then…it hit her.

_Wait a minute…__**glowing**__ hand? _Her eyes widened in surprise, and she snatched away her hand like it was on fire.

And for the first time, she actually _looked_ at the man who knocked her over.

_Oh my God…_

_…A…He's a…_

"A ghost…" she whispered in awe.

Before her, standing with a rather guilty expression, was a ghost. And not just any ghost.

It was Danny Phantom.

_No way…_

His insignia seemed to glow a pure white along with the rest of him, and he wore his trademark jumpsuit; black and silver. In the quick seconds that passed in silence, Sam couldn't help but stare incredulously.

As a Goth, she had seen some very odd things, but this just took the cake.

_Danny __**Phantom?**_

"Uh, s-sorry about this," the ghost stuttered nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't mean-"

And out of nowhere, an ectoplasmic blast shot him in the shoulder. He gasped as it jarred his body and sent him reeling forward, but he caught himself before he could stumble into Sam.

She had instinctively put her hand out to steady him, but it seemed he needed no assistance. Phantom gave her a quick little smile of gratitude before turning around to see what hit him.

And, in that moment, Sam gasped in both surprise and shock.

_Wow, that- that looks like it really hurts…_

Phantom's whole right shoulder was exposed, the magnitude of the blast having torn his suit. Shredded skin and ecto-blood oozed from the burn, and Sam inwardly winced. _Ouch…_

And yet, it seemed that Phantom wasn't even _fazed_ by such a wound.

At any rate, time had seemed to slow down, to stop even, within those few seconds. Perhaps, in reality, it had slowed to only a fraction of its actual pace. Either way, it didn't matter to Sam.

Adrenaline and on-the-spot panic drove her senses into overdrive, and the woman found herself catching the most strangest things.

Like what happened next, for example.

It was seriously the weirdest thing she had ever seen in her life. The burn on Danny Phantom's shoulder, the one that made her wince just by looking at it, was instantaneously healing. Right before her eyes.

In the matter of seconds.

The laceration on his shoulder healed back to smooth, white skin, and the threads of his jumpsuit sewed themselves back together. He didn't even _blink_.

Had this happened before?

But whether or not ir had, it utterly dumfounded Sam.

And all the while, time unfroze and sped up; Sam blinked, and seconds whirled away once more.

Phantom, having regained his footing and analyzed the situation, turned around to face her. "I gotta go," he told her distractedly, shouldering what looked to be a high-tech soup thermos. Then, with one quick glance of concern, he commanded, "Stay here." And he spiraled up into the sky, in search of the ecto-blast's source.

Having nothing better to do (and being incredibly curious,) Sam watched as he tore through the sky.

"Alright, alright," Danny called to the air. His voice sounded tired, annoyed, and slightly embarrassed. (Unless of course Sam was just dreaming that last part. But considering Sam's judgmental skills, it was logically discerned that her eyes weren't deceiving her.) "I'm sick of hide and seek; show yourself!"

And for a short moment, Sam was utterly convinced that Danny Phantom was seeing things that weren't there. (The sky around him was, for all practical purposes, as clear as crystal.)

But then again, she had just talked with a _ghost. _

The logical part of Sam said that she had no room to criticize.

Just as Sam was beginning to question the world's sanity, the air surrounding Phantom morphed into black swirls. The temperature of the air suddenly dropped twenty degrees, and Sam just barely caught a hint of Danny's smirk before a bright light blinded her. She had to look away.

"_Ahaha_!" Maniacal laughter filled the air, resounding through the forest. It echoed strangely, and the sound reminded Sam of a deranged grandmother. The tension built, the seconds stilled, and life hung in the balance. She saw Phantom powering up with pure ectoplasmic energy, his entire body glowing.

It was to be a dangerous mission, a fight to the death, an ultimate testament of-

The ghost materialized in sight.

Danny facefaulted._ Oh dear **God**. _Suddenly, Phantom's energy fields froze, and he slapped his foreheard. "Not again!" he moaned dramatically. "Not _you_ again...!"

The ghost, who also _looked_ like a deranged grandmother, smiled maniacally. She wagged her finger at him, as if she were scolding a child. "Now, what did I say about respecting your elders?"

Then, the glow around Phantom ebbed away, and the hero adopted an expression akin to, 'What the Hell?' His mouth gaped like a fish, an unfitting expression that almost made Sam laugh. "B-but, how'd you get out of the thermos?" Phantom asked incredulously, shocked.

The ghost in return winked at him. "Never lock an expert escape artist in _anything_. You know I'll always find a way out."

But his expression suddenly grew from shocked to a face-fault once more. Danny deadpanned, "…But you're not an escape artist. Just look at what you're wearing!" He pointed his finger at her attire.

She looked down, and then the old woman scoffed at him, turning up her nose. "I can't help that I died like this!"

Squinting a bit, Sam could just make out what the ghost's straightjacket said. The words 'Hollywood Institution for the Mental' stood out like a sore thumb.

_…Huh. Now that explains a few things. _She leaned against the grill of her car, completely disregarding all sense of self-preservation_. Either way, this should be entertaining, _she thought.

_But maybe I should help..._

Unfortunately for both Sam and Danny, the ghost's straightjacket was not tied. She launched an ectoplasmic blast and spiraled higher in the sky, screaming, "_Yeah toast_!"

It took a moment for Phantom to chase after her, but perhaps it was due to the randomness of the situation. Which, unfortunately, only got worse.

_"Peanut Butter Jelly Time_!" And with that declaration, she threw him yet another ectoplasmic blast, cackling madly.

If it weren't for the fact that she was dead (and mentally insane), she seriously could have been in the Major Leagues. And Danny would have known firsthand, for he was suddenly introduced to that thought.

He swerved hard right to escape the fast ball, all the while firing right back. "I can't even come up with a good pun for this," he muttered. Nevertheless, Danny managed something. "Hey, grandma!" he called out. "Shouldn't you be at home, baking cookies or something?"

And at the smart jab, the ghost wheeled around, her red eyes smoldering. "Shouldn't you be studying for a final exam?"

"Please," Danny snorted. "Finals aren't for-"

He suddenly cut himself off, a puzzled expression on his face. Then, he counted on his fingers. "-three months." He nodded to himself. "Yeah, three months." Unfortunately, he had broken out of character and thus found himself stuck between being heroic and nerdy.

What a fix.

In any case, Sam was wondering exactly _why_ Phantom had finals. Wasn't he a ghost? _Ghosts don't have school…do they? _She bit her lip in contemplation. _Well, I mean I guess it's not __**impossible**__…_

_Still, though…that's weird. _

Danny looked back down at the earth beneath him, and noticed a another car zooming down the road. It still had a little ways before it reached ground zero, but Danny doubted that he could capture the ghost in under a minute. Whoever they were, that person was gonna get caught in the crossfire.

Unfortunately.

_Shit, _he cursed mentally, and ran a hand through his wild hair. _Today just isn't my day..._

* * *

Ignorant of the current situation, the citizen of Amity Park continued down the road, driving at normal speeds in his normal car. His mind was off in la-la land, another constant in his life, and he had just come from his normal job.

Normally, he would take this road whenever he wanted to stall for time. (He had an overbearing wife waiting for him at home.) And normally, it worked.

He just didn't know _how_ well it would work this time.

The sound of strange, unearthly shouts brought him out of his daze, and he blinked, clearing away his vision. _Wha…?_

His gray eyes searched through the windshield of his car, scanning the premises for strange objects. And for a second, he thought he saw-

His eyes widened. Wait, a minute! He did! He saw a ghost…! He saw _two_ ghosts!

Which, all things considered, was _not _supposed to be normal. Well, for any place other than Amity Park.

Also, speaking of _not_ normal, the ghost was shockingly familiar. And maybe it was because Danny Phantom was there, or that the ghost was distracted, but the citizen felt remotely safe. In fact, he felt safe enough to figure out _why_ the ghost was so shockingly familiar.

The citizen suddenly scrunched his nose and narrowed his eyes to get a better look. There were many news reports nowadays, dealing with ghostly happenings. But where had he seen this ghost's face?

His car continued to inch forwards as he subconsciously pushed his foot against the gas pedal. The side window rolled down as he got closer to ground zero, and he worked with his 20/40 vision until he got a clear view.

Gray eyes locked onto the two ghosts (and the human standing off to the side), and he froze.

He recognized the ghost.

"Oh my God! D-Danny Phantom!" Random-Person-In-Their-Car screamed before desperately jamming their car into another gear and speeding in the opposite direction.

The old ghost woman raised a brow and waved bon voyage to the rapidly disappearing car. "And you're the big green thing that devoured Pittsburgh!" she called out most randomly. "Bye bye, sweetheart!"

Danny blinked. _Devoured…Pittsburgh? Where's **Pittsburgh?**_ A strange sense of deja-vu overcame him, and he wondered if maybe Sam felt it too.

Strangely, she did.

Struck by a sudden realization, Sam said out loud, "That wasn't just a poorly disguised reference to the old Batman TV show, was it?"

Danny stopped flying, a contemplative expression on his face. He rubbed his chin. "Unfortunately, I think it was." He slid his emerald eyes around to meet Sam's. "Is it from that one episode, 'The Cat's Meow?'"

The damsel-enjoying-the-fight nodded. "Yep."

"Wasn't it supposed to be a title of something?" Danny mused curiously.

"Uh huh…" And a random trip down memory lane ensued.

The crazy mental escapee joined the conversation, flying back around after realizing that no one was chasing her. "Deary, it was a movie title way back from the 1940's." She stood a little straighter, more proud. "Of course, _I _would know, being from Hollywood and all." And for a moment, her granny-ness shined into the world. "Ah, the good old days of the silver screen."

"Wait a minute," Sam said, raising a brow at Danny Phantom. "how do _you_ know what episode it was? Do you watch old Batman shows?"

"Occasionally," he admitted. "You know, when I'm not out here...trying to save the world, and stuff..." He scratched his neck and laughed a bit nervously. "Kinda nerdy, I know."

She felt a new form of repect for him, and she stared into his eyes curiously. "No, it's not. I think it's awesome."

"Really?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

Then, suddenly, reality hit them. They all looked at each other, realizing that they were no longer fighting. The crazy ghost was currently floating next to Phantom, inputting her memories, and Phantom and Sam were sidetracking into a random conversation of old television shows.

Now how did _that_ happen?

Danny coughed, and an awkward moment ensued. "_So_…" _I guess I'll just take advantage of this then…_

A devilish little smile lit his face.

In a flash, he pulled out the Fenton Thermos. And before the crazy ghost could even protest, she was sucked into the soup container.

Seconds later, a muffled cry of frustration echoed into the air. "_Darn you, Mel Brooks!"_

And with that, Danny closed the cap with one final twist.

Sam looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and Phantom only returned with a raised one of his own. _So this is the great Danny Phantom…_

"Do you do this often?" she asked curiously.

"Eh," he replied distractedly, "depends on the week."

Then, she noticed the look on Phantom's face as he lifted his eyes to the sky. "What are you thinking about?"

He looked back up at her, rubbing his chin. His pensive expression was twisted in a mixture between confusion and curiosity.

"You know, I wonder whatever happened to Pittsburgh in that old movie…"

At that, Sam's lips turned up, and she couldn't help but smile at him and his genuine curiousity. "Who knows?" she shrugged. "Right now, I'm just wondering whatever happened to my_ car_..." She gestured to the car she was leaning against. She was still stuck, and the engine was still smoking.

Then, she got an idea.

"And speaking of which," Sam asked, "do you think you could help me?"

* * *

_O.o.O.o.O_

* * *

_I'll apologize right now. I had no muse. Finals sucked away my entire brain, leaving only old show tunes and clichés. I hope this chapter was somewhat okay to read though… I promise next chapter will be better:)_

**1.) Did this chapter have a generally good flow of words, or should I work more on my sentence structures? **

**2.) Are the characters still interesting and, for the most part, still adding a fair share to the building of the plot?**

**3.) Are there any scenes or certain places in the chapter that seem out of place or slightly confusing? **

**4.) Are the characters' thoughts realistic, or too generic? Is there any way that I could improve on this? **

**5.) Was the ending too rushed, or did it provide a good cliff-hanger? **

_Thanks for reading,_

_Lightning Streak_

_Upated: Friday, December 28th 2007 at 5:15 P.M._

_**Leave me any comments or thoughts about this chapter! I'd really love a review!**_


	8. Engine Repair And Backyard Surprises

_Disclaimer: Don't own DP. _

_Oh. My. Goodness. Four years? It's been four years since I updated? That's just borderline criminal, even for me. For the record, I would highly recommend rereading this whole fanfic, as I have tried to edit some of the older chapters. :) _

* * *

**Theoretically Illogical**

**Chapter 8: Engine Repair And Backyard Surprises**

* * *

Danny nervously started at her words_. H-help? _His big, green eyes suddenly widened a bit, and he felt invisible walls closing in. "You want me to…help you?" he asked, his voice cracking a bit.

"Well…" Sam said sheepishly, "yes?"

The ghost rubbed the back of his neck, not expecting the turn of events. Although really, he _should_ have expected it, considering his life. "I guess," he stuttered out, "I m-mean, well…sure!" He awkwardly pointed to her car. "It broke down, right?"

Sam nodded in return. "I think it might be the radiator."

Thus, Danny slowly solidified into the dimension of the living, his features no longer transparent. He narrowed his eyes at the black car, as if scrutinizing it. He'd never been amazing with cars, but he knew enough to get by. "Has the radiator done this before?" he asked Sam, dead serious about helping. No pun intended.

She gave him a sheepish smile, and her cheeks tinged a bit pink. The ghost, considered one of the top ten sexiest bachelors in Amity Park, stared into her eyes with an expression of utmost seriousness. His deep, emerald eyes seemed to penetrate her own, and she wasn't sure if she could hold his gaze for much longer.

How school-girlish.

She looked down away from his glance. "Uh, y-yeah." She embarrassedly cleared her throat. "It has."

Phantom just blinked. "…Oh." His gaze grew less serious, and he looked at her with a hint of curiosity. "I think I can fix this, but…" he paused. "You gotta a tool box?"

Sam's violet eyes suddenly widened, and her heart stopped. _Uh oh… _She bit her lip. "Well, I _did_," she finally admitted, "but I think I left it in my dad's old Ford…" She gave him a guilty look. "Sorry."

Danny hesitated, caught between relief and disappointment. Why was he disappointed? "Umm, well I dunno if I _can_ fix it then…" His emerald eyes narrowed as he stared at the car.

His heart fell a little as he realized he couldn't help her. But then his eyes brightened in a sudden thought, and he looked back up at Sam. "Wait," he told her suddenly, "I've got a better idea."

Then, with a soft smile, he held out his hand and asked, "Fly with me?" His heart pounded just loud enough to echo in his ears, and his eyes were so hopeful that even Sam couldn't deny him.

Her own eyes widened in surprise, and she tried not to blush at the offer. So shocked was she by the question that she couldn't think of anything to say.

After all, it wasn't every day that a girl got to fly with _the_ Danny Phantom.

And so, she accepted by placing her hand in his. Cold. Warm. Her face flushed deeper at his widening smile, but he said nothing except, "Come on. Let's take you home." And he tightened his grip on her hand, quickly pulling her up into the air.

Sam's eyes widened to the size of dinner platters, and she nearly crushed his fingers with her hand.

Logically, she thought it was a good instinctive move. Humans and gravity generally didn't mix, but…why was he laughing? His lips were tilted in an amused smile, and though he didn't out rightly laugh at her fear, his eyes crinkled in a way that suggested he would've. "Don't worry," he said. "I won't drop you."

She blushed and forced herself to look at the blurring-soaring-how fast were they flying?-scenery. And they were so high off the ground! Everything was so small…A sick and wonderful chill stormed down her spine. Her clothes ruffled and twisted in the sharp wind, and she was admittedly afraid, but something about the experience was exhilarating. She could breath normally, as if a thin barrier surrounded them from the negative effects of one-hundred and eighty miles an hour.

"Wow," she whispered.

* * *

By the time he set her down on the sidewalk by her house, she had _just _gotten used to flying. Her eyes were wide, her heartbeat elevated, her fingers absolutely glued to Phantom's. (That last point was a serious plus, in retrospect). Something about her face must have been off, though. "You gonna be okay?" he asked her in concern.

She inhaled deeply, "Uh, yeah! Just as soon…as soon as I catch my breath." Upon the fortunate instance in which Sam remembered how to properly convert oxygen into carbon dioxide, she gained enough self-confidence to take back her hand.

It tingled with his touch, still caught between hot and cold.

"Thanks," she suddenly said, smiling a bit awkwardly. "For everything."

He rubbed his neck. "Yeah, well, sorry 'bout the car." He looked at her. "You know, I could go back and get it for you so-"

"-Oh, don't worry about it!" she quickly cut in, already feeling uncomfortable with her debt to him. "I know where it's at, so I'll just call a tow truck bring it back here."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "Positive."

And as conversations often turn between two strangers, it became rather awkward, and it was very, very quiet.

Someone off in the distance coughed, and both of them turned around to witness the dozen shocked stares of pedestrians. One kid had stopped peddling on his tricycle, not but ten feet away. Another teen had dropped their mp3 player. An elderly couple stared in fear.

Sam narrowed her eyes, "What are you all looking at?"

Her suspicious acknowledgement of their existence startled them all back into their routines, and the people mumbled and carried on, glancing back at the ghost and the girl. The kid in his tricycle paddled on, still staring curiously.

Phantom cleared his throat, regaining Sam's attention. "Well, I guess I better go. You know, superhero stuff and all."

Without anymore of a 'goodbye,' he spiraled up into the air with a supersonic blast.

Sam crossed her arms and raised a brow as she watched him disappear into the clouds. A part of her couldn't help but wonder if he was showing off. She'd seen him fly before, but never that gracefully, or powerfully.

Hmm…

On second thought, yeah, he was probably showing off. Ghost or not, he was a guy, and it was his instinct to flare his feathers in the presence of a woman. Go figure.

With the strange analogy to biology still floating in her mind, Sam's face twisted, and she rolled her eyes, walking away.

There was admittedly a difference between mating rituals and an egotistical superhero. But he wasn't really half as egotistical as she would've thought, and she was a little disconcerted to think of Danny Phantom exhibiting primal instincts towards a human being…

_Whoa…Too much information. _

Sam realized she was dwelling on the subject and purposely forced herself to stop thinking about him.

Back to reality.

Gathering herself together, she stared at her house. Then, realizing how late she was, she barreled through the front door, nearly tripping on the doormat. "Mom! Dad! I'm home!"

Pamela Manson sat in the large parlor room, back rigid, hand mechanically petting a fluffy, white cat. "Samantha," she greeted coldly. "Do you know what time it is?"

The college student pressed her lips together. "…Around four o' clock?"

"And what time did you promise to be here?"

"Uh…two o' clock?"

"Yes, Samantha. Now, do you notice a discrepancy here in what you promised and what you did?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, mother."

"And why were you late, Samantha?"

The college student narrowed her eyes. "Well, to be perfectly honest, my car broke down, and then I got caught in the crossfire between some ghosts. But don't worry! I'm alive. Barely. I hitch-hiked a ride with Danny Phantom, who flies at five hundred feet altitude and one-hundred and eighty miles per hour, _all _the way here."

The mother blinked uncertainly. "I'm sorry, run that by me again? Did you just say that you _hitch-hiked _with a _ghost_?"

"Uh, yeah, I did," Sam replied shortly. "But that was after my _car_ broke down. Because, you know, cars do that occasionally."

"I'm not appreciating your sarcasm, Samantha."

"Yeah, well, I'm not appreciating your lack of maternal instinct. Shouldn't you be asking if I'm okay?"

Suddenly, up from the basement, a fatherly voice boomed, "Ah, Samantha! I heard you and your mother arguing all the way in the theater." He smiled somewhat painfully, in apology. "Welcome home."

Sam turned to her father and couldn't help but smile a bit. "Hey, dad," she said. Then she turned back to glare at her mother. "Glad to know that at least _one_ of my parents cares about my well-being."

Pamela's expression faulted. "Samantha, you know that I'm just trying to instill some form of responsibility in you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Thanks, but no thanks." She set her bag down on a nearby chair. "If I can keep myself from dying in a ghost attack, I think I'm gonna survive in normal life."

The mother pressed her lips together tightly, but she said nothing more.

"Come on now, Samantha," her father tried to smooth things over. He gently guided her to the kitchen. "Your mother bought you soy milk and tofu to celebrate your homecoming. Don't hold these things against her. She's just trying to say she loves you."

Sam rolled her eyes. "If that's love, no thanks."

Then, Jeremy's face twisted. "…Sweetheart, did you say 'ghost attack?'"

"Uh, yes. Yes, I did." She waved away her father's concern. "But don't worry. As I'm currently in front of you and unharmed, there's not much to be done anyway." She turned to him. "But can I have my toolbox back, so that way I don't have to have an awkward run-in with ghosts again?"

Not that a part of her wouldn't mind being in debt to Danny Phantom…

* * *

After a casual and pleasant (not) dinner in the company of her parents, Sam retired back to her old room, thoroughly finished with the awkward and stiff conversations. She set her duffel bag on the dark carpet and stared at the old decorations.

God, it barely even felt like home anymore. Her college apartment with her occasionally annoying and yet friendly roommate Tia felt like true home, even though she'd only spent a couple of years there, and almost two decades in the Manson family fortress.

_Good thing I'm only spending the weekend here. _

She didn't really have the best memories in that old house…

Feeling somewhat darker than usual, she sighed and plopped down on her large, red comforter. Her fingers dug into the soft fabric, and she closed her eyes. If she paid close attention, she could hear her mother's soprano voice interweaved with her father's light tenor. They were discussing something about the opera, and whether or not they would be able to convince her to join them…

Survey said that she wouldn't agree, but it was still early in her visit with her parents, so who knew? Maybe she'd go, if her mother would let her wear dark colors…

Stretching out like a cat, Sam slowly got up, a small kink in her back. It was nearing sundown.

_Ahh_, Sam thought. _Beautiful darkness._

Not wanting to miss the sight of the sunset, she pushed herself off the bed and walked to her balcony.

There in the suburbs of Amity, the air was just a little more crisp and clean. The soft breeze ruffled her black clothes and hair, and she reveled in the peace of silence and isolation.

Except she had forgotten one thing about the suburbs of Amity Park.

As she leaned calmly against the wrought-iron rails of the small balcony, Sam noticed something strange in the distance. Glowing green lights seared across the sky, and they originated from another brightly glowing source. A distant echo of a scream.

Five years of living within the single-most haunted city in America had taught her exactly what those lights meant: ghosts.

High above Amity Park, she pinpointed a glowing figure, and she realized the lines of its body looked incredibly similar to Danny Phantom's.

_Is that…? _

There'd been some controversy about the appearance of said ghost, for he had the knack of avoiding news channels and paparazzi like the plague.

But having an up-close and personal encounter with the elusive superhero had acquainted her with _all_ the lines of his body…She blushed with the memory, and her lips twitched in self-disgust at her own involuntary action.

Yep, it was definitely Danny Phantom. No doubt about it.

She raised her eyes to watch the ghost in his natural habitat, curious. He flew lazily, the infamous Fenton Thermos that he'd supposedly stolen from Fenton Works cradled in his hands.

She knew the rumors about him, whether or not he was truly attempting to protect the town, or if he was simply staking claim on it as his turf. Whether he was truly a good ghost, or if he had ulterior motives…

So far, she hadn't had any reason to doubt him.

* * *

Meanwhile, at an altitude of a five hundred feet, Danny sighed as he screwed the Thermos shut. "Finally. Some peace and quiet at last."

"Not quite, Ghost Child."

Emerald eyes widened, and Phantom quickly spun around. "_Skulker_?"

Back on the balcony, Sam's eyes narrowed as she caught sight of a fast, green blur colliding with a surprised Phantom.

It slammed Phantom onto the hard concrete ground, and Sam instinctively winced.

This ghost looked_ way _more dangerous than any others she'd seen around.

Danny tried to escape Skulker's grasp, but the mechanical ghost was too strong. "Hello, prey," Skulker taunted him, unaware of the human girl watching from afar. "You haven't had the privilege of decorating my living room yet. I'm here to collect."

The young ghost's face twisted in disgust. "No thanks, I was never into interior design, and I also never agreed to _be_ the design." He grunted and threw Skulker off of him. "So why are you here? _Again_? For the third time today?"

"The thrill of the hunt lies in the chase," Skulker said, his plasma canon on his arm whining up with power. "Other prey run in straight lines and fail to amuse. But you?" His sharp, metallic smile shined cruelly in the moonlight. "You are worthy of my expertise as the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter. I will not waste my time with others."

"Dude," Danny deadpanned, "we talked about this. Hunting half-ghosts is like, against preservation laws." He grunted and threw Skulker off of him. "Keep this up, and I'm just gonna have to call PETA on you for abusing an endangered species!"

Skulker raised a dark, wired brow. "Oh? And what would a non-profit organization comprised of pesky humans do to _me_?"

They twisted about each other, striking blows half-heartedly.

Danny shrugged. "Oh, I dunno. They'll probably spray paint your entire lair red or something, and have every human female within a fifty mile radius scratch out your eyes with their perfectly manicured nails." He felt a little déjà vu saying that, but it felt right, so he went with it.

It worked. Skulker swallowed back a small bit of fear. "Red spray paint?" he echoed.

Danny nodded very seriously. "Oh yes. Sticky and _permanent _spray paint. That'll never, _ever_ come out of fur. Or ghost pelts."

"…Human females with manicured nails?" Skulker echoed again, his metallic skin losing its shine to resort to a robotic paleness. There was only one thought on his mind, and that was a jealous Ember. His plasma canon died.

"And they'll hunt you down until they convert you into a tie-dye wearing tree-hugger with a pet ferret," Danny added, gleefully spinning wild tales. "These humans don't eat, they don't sleep! You'll be hunted by them for the rest of your afterlife unless you agree to not hunt half-ghosts!"

Skulker momentarily hesitated, the green facets of his cybernetic eyes narrowing in racing thought. "A truly terrifying fate, Ghost Child. Such a twist would force me into a temporary truce. But unfortunately for you, if this…PETA never learns of the existence of half-ghosts, how can they protect you?" Skulker questioned.

Something, a bit like unfortunate realization, dropped into Danny's stomach. His eyes widened. "Ah man, I didn't think of that."

The cruelty and arrogance worked its way back into Skulker. "Better run then, Ghost Child. This is all the more reason to skin you tonight!" The plasma canon whined back up, and his metal exoskeleton gleamed rather darkly. Then, body blurring with the rush of electronic power, Skulker charged. "I'll make you into a pelt if it's the last thing I do!"

Danny twisted his body away from a raining barrage of ectoplasm, relying on instinct alone.

Thus, the battle began, complete with the give and take of ectoplasmic charges and the occasional witty banter regarding "compensation for size" and other such nonsense that made Skulker steam in his metal suit.

From Sam's balcony, she thought the blasts, barriers, and gleaming metallic knives and nets rather looked like a futuristic fourth of July celebration. In retrospect, it was utterly terrifying and most certainly not a national declaration of independence. Or anything democratic.

She swallowed hard, her hands tightening on the balcony rails. She'd never actually seen Phantom in a serious fight…

The way Phantom's eyes flashed with power was scary. Even for someone like her, who liked dangerous things.

But she was way too intrigued to look away or run back inside like she didn't have enough backbone to watch a battle to the death. Er, after-death…?

In a lucky (or unlucky) twist of events, Skulker shot at Danny and hit him dead in the chest. It threw the younger ghost off balance and opened him up for serious punishment. Skulker blasted him again, tearing straight through Danny's flickering barrier to grab him by the neck.

Danny Phantom stared up at Skulker, green eyes wide with surprise as he clawed at Skulker's metal hand, gasping. "S-Skulker, wha-?"

"-Can't have your pelt too damaged," the hunter hummed, and in a feat of technologic fury, summoned the core energy supply to his suit. Static electricity stormed down his arm and surrounded Phantom in lightning strikes of pure energy.

The ghost cried out, eyes rolling as his body convulsed.

When Skulker pulled away, Danny fell in an ungainly flail of limbs. He slammed into the hard concrete with an awful crack.

Sam winced, but her wide, purple eyes couldn't look away from the collapsed ghost. Her heart skipped a beat.

Skulker tilted his head, staring down at his unusually still opponent. "It appears my new weapon works quite nicely." Danny still didn't move, and Skulker's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps too nicely."

Floating down, his steel boots clinked against the road, and he stood over Danny Phantom's unconscious body, canon charged. For a moment, Sam felt the need to _do_ something, to help, to distract him long enough for Phantom to wake back up. But then Skulker sighed, lowering his weapon, and Sam felt relief wash over her. "The thrill of the hunt lies in the chase. I have won this round. Until next time, Ghost Child."

Skulker retracted the canon back, and he turned away to fly into the sunset.

Danny's pain-filled green eyes snapped opened. "Oh no you don't!" he whispered under his breath, gathering his strength. He lifted the Thermos and pressed the button.

It immediately honed on Skulker.

"What?" the ghost exclaimed at the sudden pull on his body. "A sneak attack? On me?" He turned to face Danny, who shot him a cocky but wavering smirk.

And _woosh _went his day of hunting.

"No!" Skulker cried out, cybernetic eyes widening as he clawed away from the Thermos's power, leeching towards him in quick flashes. His left hand extended into a grappling hook, which he threw out into the air, in hopes of attaching to a tree or monument.

But alas, a soup thermos with the name Fenton on it was too great of a foe.

And Skulker, the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter, disappeared inside the Thermos with a raging string of incredibly inappropriate curses, which could not be repeated without horrible, universe-warping consequences that would most certainly irritate the ghost Clockwork. But that was a story for another time.

In the midst of the battle's aftermath, Phantom's hands shook. His unusually tanned skin was pale. Sam squinted her eyes to see him barely manage to stand back up. Eyes squeezed shut, he concentrated on flying alone.

The ghost pulled himself together and flew unsteadily away from the clearing, holding his head. "Gotta," he whispered, "get home…"

But something was wrong, and as he flew overhead in a distracted haze, his body teetered and then slowly descended back to earth in a disjointed flight path worthy of a bird with one wing.

He crashed into the trees lining her extensive backyard.

Without even thinking, Sam reacted. She bolted from her balcony.

_Come on, move it, Manson! _

The strange need to just…_know_ that Danny Phantom was okay (and not stuck within her backyard's tree line) echoed straight to her core.

Jeremy looked up from his Italian roast coffee and newspaper as his daughter flew by the main parlor room. "Honey, where are you going?"

"Out! Be back!" she called over her shoulder, grabbing her jacket and an old baseball bat the housekeeper used to keep away wandering hobos begging for money.

This time, it would come in handy for self-defense, just in case ghosts really were like animals and preyed on their weak…Or if Danny Phantom wasn't quite as friendly as she believed him to be…

She quickly ran down the porch steps, past the small orchard, and out into the woods, heart pounding. In her hurry, wood sticks and leaves crunched beneath her feet.

Her wild eyes landed on his hunched over figure as he hovered a couple feet off the earth. And there he was. Danny Phantom, one of the top ten sexiest bachelors of Amity Park and most controversial celebrity figure for three years running, was here. In her backyard. Injured.

The Fenton Thermos slipped from his grasp to cling softly on the ground and roll away. Then, he inhaled sharply, and he ungracefully collapsed to the earth, groaning in pain.

She crouched down in the bushes, unsure of how to approach an injured ghost. Would he unwittingly attack her in self-defense? Or would he still recognize her?

Phantom had saved her once. She had a debt to repay. She had to take the chance.

Tentatively, she moved out of the bushes dropped beside him, setting down her bat. Not quiet as unconscious as she first believed, he teetered between awareness and sleep. Ecto-blood trailed from a shallow cut on his side, and green-tinged bruises darkened the side of his face and his neck. His lolling eyes landed on hers.

His injuries seemed remarkably human.

"…_S-Sam_…?" Phantom's deep voice rasped incredulously, and she held his hand as he fell into the throes of unconsciousness.

Her violet eyes were wide and concerned. This ghost (also one of the top ten sexiest bachelors in Amity Park, to reiterate) had saved her once. In concern for safety of his after-life, She didn't even care that he knew her name, and yet she'd never told it to him…

"Oh man," Sam worried. _What the hell do I do now? _She couldn't check his pulse, because he probably didn't even have one. She wasn't quite sure how to treat the electric burns across his neck, or how to stop the bleeding of bright ectoplasm from his cuts.

His lips moved, as if he wished to say something, but his hand fell limp, and his body relaxed into the dirt as his eyes closed in blissful unconsciousness. Sam swallowed hard. His hand was cold in hers.

For a moment, nothing happened.

But then the strangest thing: a warping, satellite of blue stormed down his body. Loose, baggy clothes replaced his tight jumpsuit. Black for white. He groaned, quickly coming to. As his eyes opened, it was blue for green.

And Sam suddenly realized she was staring in the haggard face of one Daniel Fenton.

She was fairly certain that if there was a cow that could jump over the moon, it would've done it just then.

He stared up at her before lightning realization struck him, and his eyes widened in panic. They both jumped. Danny quickly scooted back into a defensive stance.

Sam was speechless for quite some time. "…Danny?" she whispered, her voice breaking in surprise.

Danny stared at her in horror. "Sam?" Already, the bruises and cuts on his face were gone, and his handsome face was clear of any evidence of a battle.

"Oh my God," Sam breathed, still fixated on him with a twisted look of disbelief. "Oh my God, _you're_ Danny Phantom?"

It took roughly 2.5 seconds for her thoughts to completely explode. Like a firework. "What the he-!"

"-Please don't panic!" he said quickly, blue eyes wide. "I can explain!" Then, he stopped and paused. "Uh, kind of."

"Explain?" she echoed incredulously. "Explain_ what_? That you're a ghost?"

He moved forward. "Sam, please-"

"-Get away from me!" she instinctively pulled away from him, swinging her bat up. "You have _so_ much explaining to do before I let you within twenty feet of me!"

Her wide violet eyes raced. _Not again_, she thought with welling dread. _Not this again!_

He held his hands up in surrender. "Okay," he said. "Okay! Remember, my last name's Fenton. You know, like Fenton Works?"

The entire situation oddly reminded him of their first completely sober meeting together, during which Sam had flipped out on him and accused him of very adult-type ulterior motives.

Except this time she was armed and not wearing his underwear.

She suspiciously narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, I know what you told me. They hunt ghosts like you."

"I'm their _son_," he explained quickly. "I'm still Danny. I got caught in an accident with some of their technology and was infected with ectoplasm. Danny Phantom is my alternate appearance."

Still on the flipside of logic, Sam had a hard time separating the two. Danny was a ghost? Danny Phantom could look like Danny Fenton? "You're a _ghost_," she concluded. "You've always been a ghost." Her eyes flashed with a betrayal that went far deeper than that night. "You lied to me."

He spluttered in frustration, "No! I'm Danny! I'm really Danny Fenton, and I'm still alive! Phantom is just…the product of being exposed to too much ghost stuff, I swear!"

Sam felt as if she'd been played somehow during the last couple of weeks, having been made an idiot in front of both Danny and Phantom. She felt like she'd been the brunt of the joke, the center of some elaborate scheme that she didn't quite understand yet.

It was a familiar feeling, and it scared her.

Flashes from years ago, of a man's deceptive smile, invaded her mind, and Sam froze.

Danny tilted his head, slowly understanding that something more was going on. "…Sam?"

She knew the rumors regarding Phantom's motives. She'd just never applied them to herself before. Maybe Danny was just like…like…_Him_. Her mind raced.

Inhaling sharply, she back stepped, raising her bat. Better to error on the side of safe than sorry. "I'm not going to let you hurt me."

"Sam, trust me," he told her. "I'm not evil, I'm not going to hurt you. I didn't mean to deceive you, okay? I just don't want the whole world knowing about this."

She swallowed hard. "No, I _don't_ trust you. I don't even know _what _you are, or whether I believe that Danny Phantom is really the superhero he says he is."

Her words stung him, a little part of her logical brain was hyperventilating. She knew the rumors. Phantom's need for a human form clicked right in to everything she knew about

And before she knew, a thousand, preconceived ideas flew through her mind.

"So is this why you've played nice all this time?" she accused him. "Just so that you could deceive me into letting you kidnap me or worse, just like you did with all those other girls?"

His eyes widened, offended. "You're kidding me, right? Channel 4 news proved those disappearances weren't ghost related! It was some crazy, human guy desperate for a date! And that was like, three years ago!"

She wasn't even listening. "I can't believe I was actually going to help you!" she exclaimed, narrowing her gaze. "I can't believe you've been lying to me! About everything _you_ are!"

It was silent, incredibly, horribly silent.

Danny pressed his lips together and clenched his fists. Then, with a sigh, he released all the tension in his shoulders. He asked softly, "Okay then, what do _you _want me to do, Sam?"

Her mind raced, and her purple eyes were so full of confusion that she _wanted_ to believe him, but her fear of the unknown held her back.

Whoever the hell Danny Fenton/Phantom was, she didn't know him. Not really. Not anymore. This changed everything.

Danny was just like _him_ after all.

"Just," she said uncertainly, "…just stay away from me. Until I can figure this out."

He was silent. He opened his mouth to object, but then he closed it with a sigh. "Fine." His blue eyes hardened, and brilliant light stormed over him once more to transform him into Danny Phantom. His electric burns reappeared, still healing, and his face paled in pain, but he was too proud to admit it.

It sent chills down her spine to watch.

"Good bye, Sam."

Then, he materialized into the air, leaving Sam all alone within the silent woods.

She lowered her bat with shaky hands.

* * *

And somewhere within the Fenton Thermos, Skulker whistled. "_Damn_," his muffled voice echoed. They were flying towards Fenton works. "And I thought _I_ had girl problems."

Danny glared at the Thermos and shook it. "Shut up, Skulker."

* * *

**A/N**: _Hey, everybody! After a four year hiatus, __**Theoretically Illogical **__is back on track and ready to rock! To everyone who's been supporting me and/or threatening me to update, thanks. :) I love you all! I've really appreciated all the praises and criticisms I've gotten for this story over the past four years, and I can't tell you how many times in the last month I've reread them all in attempts to motivate myself to update. If anything sounds or feels rushed, it was probably my own impatience to get this chapter out. _

_In all honesty, I'd forgotten how much fun it is to write this story. It's certainly less serious than Chained (although it did take a dive towards drama in this chapter), and it's somewhat more true to the canon universe than Desperado. Either way, I have an entire outline of funny and exciting things to happen during upcoming chapters, especially now that Sam has been exposed to the truth about Danny! I put a few foreshadowing and unexplained things in this chapter. Rest assured I'll explain them soon! _

_Note: PETA stands for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. If anyone here is a PETA member and felt offended by this chapter, that was not my intention. I have a good friend who is a PETA member, and I think she's pretty cool. :P _

_Chapter updated: Friday, August 5__th__, 2011 at 7:00 P.M. Would've updated sooner, but my internet was down at my house, and I had to make an emergency drive to Starbucks to upload this. :P_

**1. Plot? **

**2. Characters? **

**3. Grammar/Sentence structure/ flow? **

**4. Comments/ questions/suggestions/predictions? **

_Thanks so much for reading, _

_Lightning Streak_

**Please review and tell me if you'd like me to continue! **


	9. Revelations of White and Green

_Disclaimer: DP. Disclaimed. Yeah…_

_Hey everybody!_

* * *

**Theoretically Illogical **

**Chapter 9: Revelations of White and Green**

* * *

Hours later found Sam sitting on her bed, clutching her pillows close to her chest. She'd skipped out on the opera with her parents. She told them she had a headache.

In reality, she felt like shit.

"Oh man," she whispered into her pillows. "I can't believe I _did_ that…"

Her hands were still shaky, and her heart was complaining rather loudly at her mind for effectively destroying any potential friendship with one Danny Fenton…er, Danny Phantom…or both. Or either.

Whichever came first.

The events of that night had dragged up memories she'd buried so deeply, she'd nearly separated herself from her own past. It'd been fairly easy, because the few people who knew her past kept it just as tightly under wraps as she did.

"God, I'm such an idiot," she sniffled, wiping her eyes. Her thick eyeliner had smeared, and she knew she must have looked like hell. Good thing she was the only one home. She'd told their old butler to go on home for the evening before she'd completely broken down.

Sam was now holed up in her room, door locked, her bed a haphazard mess of tangled sheets pulled around her frazzled and shaking body. Her mind was in a haywire spiral of images of two men with white hair and green eyes…

* * *

_She first met him at the opera._

_He bumped into her, and she bumped into him, and his dashing appearance as well as his impeccable personality caught her off guard. He wore an expensive Armani suit designed personally for him. "Pardon me, Miss," he said genially. His voice was heavily accented. "It appears your beauty distracted me."_

_She raised a regal brow at his cordiality. "You aren't from around here," she noted casually. "No one calls me Miss, and no one here has an accent like yours."_

_He laughed lightly. "Ah, no. I am from Hungary. My name is Gregor Almasi." With a flick of his hand, his chauffeur drove up to the entrance in a sleek, black limo. "I was initially planning to return to my penthouse, but I insist that you accompany me to Le Bijou for dinner tonight." He gave her a sweet smile. "I cannot bear to see you walk away without at least a proper apology for, how do you say it?, 'bumping' into you."_

_"Oh, I don't know," Sam said, caught between a yes and an absolutely no. She had the slight suspicion that he was like all the others-a cute face, an unlimited credit card, and a disappointing lack of intelligence. And she didn't really want to waste a night on such a man._

_But Sam glanced back at her parents, who both looked at Gregor, his limo, and the expensive Rolex on the man's wrist, and they gave her bright smiles and waved her on her way._

_She turned back to Gregor and shrugged. "I guess why not?"_

* * *

_The next few weeks passed in a blur of expensive dates, opera houses, and Audi cars. Gregor respectfully kept his distance when entertaining Sam, striving to make her laugh and relax in his presence._

_Always the gentleman._

_He was ridiculously intelligent and witty, which impressed Sam to no end. That he was handsome, with sharp, chiseled features, helped as well._

_But it was nearly a month before he hugged her, two months before he kissed her lips instead of her hand, and three before he invited her up to his penthouse, on the top floor of Amity Apartments. Very ritzy._

_And there, that night, they stood on the outside balcony._

_"Ahh, Sam," the man whispered in her ear, her name rolling off his foreign tongue in a calm and sensual chord. He stood behind her and enveloped her in a tight hug, his hands wrapping about her stomach. "Is it not a beautiful night?"_

_Seventeen year old Sam leaned into his embrace, reveling in the strength of his arms, the soft breeze of the night air, the distant sounds of downtown Amity. "It's gorgeous."_

_"Just you and me," he pulled away from her and turned to the balcony table where a bottle and two crystal glasses stood in waiting. He gave her a small smile and poured the bottle's contents into the glasses. "I thought we could celebrate our four month anniversary?" He held out a glass._

_She accepted, her violet eyes watching him. "You remembered. I'm impressed."_

_"How could I forget?"_

_"You'd be surprised," Sam said. "Most men I've dated could barely remember their own names."_

_"And that is the problem with American men," Gregor said to tease her. "They do not understand the art of love. Now I must, how do you say it?, 'pick up their slack' and prove the male gender competent."_

_They clanged champagne glasses. "You might be able to redeem them," Sam teased back. "But it's gonna take more than four months."_

_"For you, Sam, I have all the time in the world."_

She sipped_ on her glass, eyeing him mischievously. But then she hummed. "Interesting," she said, pausing. "This isn't vodka, or any sort of alcohol. But it tastes different than just water."_

_He smiled. "It is a mineral water from my home country, called Mira." He whispered in her ear, "It can make you live forever."_

_"Does it really?" she replied with a rare smile of her own, closing her eyes to feel Gregor close the gap between them. His lips pressed against her ear lobe in a soft butterfly kiss. He breathed in her scent._

_"Of course. But to redeem the whole of man, I'd need forever." He spun her black curls around his fingers. "Would you like to live forever? With me?"_

_And before she knew it, a huge rock (costing roughly $200,000 dollars and about 2 billion years worth of the earth's time) was resting on her finger._

* * *

_Her mother clapped happily. "Oh, Samantha! A handsome, polite widower from Hungary? Who has lots of money?" She teared up. "Oh, my baby girl is finally growing up! I'm so proud of you!"_

_Sam rolled her eyes, but she was secretly happy too._

_"So when's the wedding?" her mother asked excitedly, somehow dropping decades to look like a school girl all over again._

_"I don't know, mom. We haven't set a date yet, but we're thinking in a month from now."_

_Pamela gasped. "A month? Oh Sammykins, only a month! Why, that's hardly any time at all to plan!"_

_"And look at you!" She gently turned her daughter's face. "You're so pale! When did you get this pale? You need a tan for your dress, dear!"_

* * *

"_Until tomorrow, sweetheart," Gregor kissed her lips and grabbed his briefcase. He lightly such the limo door behind him._

_Inside the limo, something caught her eye, believing it to have fallen out of Gregor's pocket. She leaned down to pick it up. It was an eye contacts case. Inside were green contacts that matched the color of Gregor's eyes._

_When she asked him about them later, he looked stricken, until the worry faded from his face like water. "I try to keep it a secret, but I'm utterly blind. Glasses and contacts aren't fashionable in Europe."_

_She smiled, but it was tight. Something in his gaze worried her._

_"Miss Samantha," the old butler, really like a second father, said hesitantly, "might I speak freely with you regarding Gregor?"_

_She was stuffing her face with salad at midnight in her pajamas. "Go for it," she shrugged._

_"Sam, I would not trust this man," he warned. "There is a strange light in his eyes."_

_She waved off his concern. "Don't worry about it. It's just his contacts."_

**_I think. _**

_She felt her initial dizziness come back, and she ate more lettuce, hoping that it was just a case of low blood sugar._

* * *

_Three weeks later, the dizziness hadn't let up and instead worsened to the point of nausea._

_Gregor rubbed her back as she retched into the toilet. Her thin frame shook with the effort. Her limbs felt like jelly, and the Hungarian tile beneath her stung with a cold that chilled her to the core._

_Eventually, the nausea subsided enough for Sam to fall back into herself._

_Her dull, violet eyes stared back at her fiancé. "I'm so sorry," she said, feeling horrible she'd ruined their night. "I didn't mean to get sick here. I haven't felt good for awhile now."_

_"I am sorry that you feel ill," Gregor mourned, green eyes soft and concerned. "Is there anything I can do for you?"_

_She tried to smile. "It's okay. I'm sure it'll pass soon."_

_"Well, why don't you drink something?" He held out a large glass filled with what looked like water._

_She wiped her mouth. "I'm not thirsty," she replied. She grabbed hold of one of the towel railings and hauled herself up. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror and wished she hadn't. Her bloodless face scared even herself._

_He pressed on, his heavily accented voice taking a deeper tone. "No, really, Sam. Drink this. It's Mira."_

_"Gregor, I really don't want to drink that." She smiled weakly. "We drink that all the time."_

_His green eyes hardened. "-Drink it."_

_She took it as concern. "No, really."_

_"Drink it, Sam."_

_Sam back stepped, her pale face staring up at his in shock. "Gregor, what-?"_

_He slammed her back against the bathroom wall and whispered in her ear, "I just wanted to give you some fun, baby." His accent was gone. He sounded American. "But you gotta make things so difficult."_

_He forced the glass up to her lips, holding her body down with his own, his large hand squeezing both her wrists together. "You think I really wanted to marry you, Sam?"_

_Tears of pain and confusion leaked from her purple eyes as she tried to turn her face away, but he followed her with the glass. He was quick._

_Cold glass opened her lips, damning Mira forced its way down her throat, and suddenly the room was spinning, and Gregor was grinning, and…_

* * *

_Police. Forensics._

_"Miss Manson, we found traces of a highly poisonous toxin laced in the liquid found in a Mira bottle." He spun a vial in his fingers for them to see. "It's virtually undetectable, unless you know what strains to look for."_

_A detective._

_He flashed a picture of the man she loved. "I know this is a difficult time for you, Miss Manson, but what can you tell us about Gregor Almasi, a.k.a Eliot Smith?"_

_She stared at him from the comfort of a hospital bed. She'd almost died from the slow and constant supply of poison in her body. "E-Eliot?" she echoed emptily. She stared at the picture._

_Add on the green contacts and hair bleach, and she was staring straight at a mug shot of Gregor. In the picture, he had brown hair and brown eyes._

_He nodded. "We've been tracking this guy since 2008. Miss Manson, you were… going to be his next victim in a string of heiress murders."_

_She swallowed hard. "I don't understand. Gregor would never-" She stopped herself, feeling the horrible memory of being pinned against wall return. Maybe he would. "…M**-murders**?"_

_"By marrying you, the Manson family fortune would have legally passed to his alias in the event of your death." The detective stared at the vial. "I believe he was attempting to speed up the process."_

_The wedding day was only one week away, and she'd already signed the papers that connected his accounts to hers._

* * *

_Gregor was twenty-two, but Eliot was twenty-eight. Gregor had bleach blond hair and green eyes. Eliot had brown hair and brown eyes. Gregor was a rich widower who'd lived a life of love and sorrow. Eliot was a heartless criminal who'd lived a life of murder and poison. Gregor was from Hungary. Eliot was from Michigan._

_And yet they were the same exact person._

_To celebrate her disillusionment with perfection, she chopped her long, beautiful hair into spikes and shaved one half of her skull. She doubled her eyeliner and burned the bright sundresses that Gregor had bought her with the blood money of his previous victims._

_Her skin still pale from her ever-nearing brush with death made her look like a ghost. Maybe, in ways, she was a ghost of her former self._

* * *

Daniel Fenton was human. Danny Phantom was a ghost. Danny Fenton was twenty. Danny Phantom had an unknown birthday. Danny Fenton was an average college student. Danny Phantom was a controversial superhero.

And yet they were the same exact person.

And they had both saved her life. They'd both smiled and helped her out. They'd both _protected_ her.

"Danny's not like Gregor," she realized, desperately attempting to separate fact from fiction. "He had to keep that part of his life a secret. He never lied to me about anything. He didn't have any motives."

_He just protected me. _

_**Protected** me. _

"Danny's not Gregor."

And the more she thought about it, she more she began to realize her irrationality.

But the fact that Danny Fenton was half-_ghost_ certainly threw her for a Tilt-O-Whirl, zero-gravity spin of the not-so-bolted-down-correctly kind…

* * *

Back at their apartment, Tucker sat beside Danny on the couch. "How ya doin', man?"

Danny grimaced, clenching and unclenching his fist to check his reflexes. "Still hurts to transform. I took a pretty big beating."

"So this Sam girl was ticked."

Danny scoffed. "Ticked? Tucker, she was _pissed_. She nearly came after me with a bat, and she accused me of so much shit…"

Tucker's perceptive gaze saw through Danny's act. "You're really upset about this, aren't you?"

"Upset?" Danny echoed sarcastically. "Why would I be upset? It's only the first time anyone outside of our circle has discovered my secret, and she wouldn't even let me _explain_ myself! She just…flipped."

A very real fear gripped him. "I thought she was my friend, Tuck. I figured she'd listen and understand. But she didn't. What if…everybody acts like that?" He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "And what if she blabs my secret to everybody?"

Tucker sighed. "Man, I think you're blowing this out of proportion."

"No, I don't think I am. I don't know Sam, and I don't know what she'll do next."

Danny was going off in one of his 'moods,' in which he worried and panicked himself into a small coma.

The techno-geek, a veteran of Danny's worry tantrums and nervous habits, stood up and clapped his friend on the back. "Look man, panicking isn't gonna change things. Why don't you call up Jazz and talk to her about it? She could probably give you some advice and calm you down. Maybe she can even figure out a way to keep Sam quiet."

Danny's distracted and bloodshot eyes landed on the phone. "Yeah," he agreed. "That sounds good."

"Great!" Tucker adjusted his glasses. "Problem solved. If you need me, I'll be down in the game room, raging against the machine and drinking orange soda. If you need me to disrupt Sam's electronics so she can't tell anyone, let me know."

* * *

7:35 P.M. Jazz picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Jazz?"

"Danny!" she recognized him immediately. He sounded stressed and tired. "What's up? You almost never call me. Unless you want something."

He sighed over the phone. "I know, and I'm sorry, but please. I really need your help."

Glancing down at her books, she pushed them aside and sat at the table, a soft, knowing smile twitching her lips up. "Anything, little brother."

With a suffering sigh, he explained the situation (leaving out the rather scandalous details, such as the alcohol and underwear, and instead explained that Sam was just a good friend) and crossed his fingers. "You know why she'd be so upset? I mean, instead of just freakin' out, you know, she was actually _angry_. She tried to _attack_ me."

Jazz hummed. "It sounds to me like this Sam girl is suffering from some overarching problem. Sure, the shock of your transformation would inevitably catch her off-guard, but she didn't even seem to question that. She questioned the _relationship _between your human and ghost appearance, and _why_ you had a double life. I think your answer is somewhere in that."

Danny leaned against the wall and sighed, glancing up at the fluorescent lights above him. Shadows crossed his tired face. "I hope so. Man, Jazz, you should have seen her face. I think Mom and Dad would have reacted better."

"That does say something," Jazz admitted. "I'm sorry, Danny. Hopefully she'll come out of it. Think about it this way: I don't think she's gonna say anything. If she's this freaked over something in her past, odds are she doesn't talk about that past, and she probably won't talk about this either."

"I hope you're right, Jazz." He paused. "I just…I just wanted her to…" He blew his bangs out of his eyes and tried to laugh away his stutter. "I dunno."

Jazz caught the strain in his voice. "…You like her, don't you?"

Caught off-guard, the boy blinked, his heart stopping. Then he swallowed hard. "Yeah."

* * *

_**A/N: **__Blah! Random noises! Utter confoundment at my own inability to update in an orderly fashion! Ahem, anyways: special thanks to WCSII for helping me get my butt in gear! My next order of business is to update Chained, Desperado, and Quantum Paradox, for any of you who wonder if I've forgotten those stories. :) _

_So here's chapter 9: the background info on Sam, and Danny's reaction to the whole fiasco. I tried to make the flashbacks into Sam's past relatively interesting-hopefully while the descriptions themselves were cliché, the plot wasn't too much. I did enjoy making Gregor into the villain, admittedly. This chapter is my first documented use of Gregor! Yay for firsts! _

_Chapter updated: Friday, December 30__th__, 2011 at 1:00 P.M., as promised! If you ever want to track my progress on a story, please check out my profile. I usually try to update it once a week to let everyone know how I'm coming along with chapters. _

**1. Plot? **

**2. Characters? **

**3. Grammar/Sentence structure/ flow? **

**4. Comments/ questions/suggestions/predictions?**

_Thanks so much for reading! Have a Happy New Year!_

_Lightning Streak_

**Please Review!**


	10. That Awkward Moment

_Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom._

* * *

**Theoretically Illogical **

**Chapter 10: That Awkward Moment**

* * *

The next morning was not necessarily pleasant.

"Samantha, I would like to speak with you after class," the professor said as she set a test down on the desk.

Cold water stormed down Sam's spine. That couldn't be good. "Uh, okay?"

Then Sam looked down and stared at her test, a careful mask in place. A giant "C" was circled in red up at the top of the paper, and she was tempted to both laugh and cry. Were it any other day (or any other test), she would certainly stomp out of that room and berate herself. But, considering the circumstances under which she'd taken the test (which included not studying and oversleeping and stressing over her past and Danny), she thought a "C" was pretty much a sign that the universe was not so much against her, even if the professor thought otherwise.

_Take the win, Sam. Just take the win. _

Then Sam realized it was biology class, and she had this class with Danny. Her purple eyes widened. Discreetly, she looked at the class through her peripherals. There were the usual classmates sitting in their usual seats, but…

Something in her dropped.

No Danny.

The short window of opportunity for late students to sneak in through the back door had come and gone, meaning that no one would be stupid enough to incur the wrath of a very time-oriented professor past that point. Not even Danny, whom she knew from experience to be incredibly unobservant and scatterbrained. And late. At least in human form.

_Maybe he's sick? _She tried to guess half-heartedly, but she doubted it. Deep down, she knew the truth was probably more personal. _No, he probably just didn't want to see me. _

_Which is totally understandable, considering how badly I brushed him off. _

The class continued without a hitch. Sam tried to listen to the lecture, but she found her thoughts returning back to one Danny Fenton, no matter how hard she focused on the professor. How mad at her was he? Would he hate her forever?

How did he manage his double life, anyway?

Her thoughts were so incomprehensibly locked on Danny that she looked down to see that she had doodled a logo for Danny Phantom._ Oh, man. _A small blush tinged her cheeks, and she covered the logo as the professor lectured around the classroom.

Somehow, the minutes passed into an hour, and the class ended. The other students gathered up their belongings and backpacks and headed out while Sam did the same. Then she remembered that the professor had requested she stay after class, and she zipped up her backpack with a little more force than necessary. The professor looked up from her papers.

"Samantha?"

She fought back a groan. _Here we go. _

"Yes, Mrs. Clearwaters?"

"Miss Manson," her professor began, "I'm concerned about you. At the beginning of the semester, you were my top student. You never earned grades below a 'b.' But now…" the professor trailed off, eyeing her. "Your grades are slipping, and you're not focusing in class. Is there anything wrong? Family troubles? Involvement in the wrong crowd?"

Sam smiled painfully as she shouldered her backpack. "Look, it's ok. Just having some…friend troubles. Don't worry about it."

The professor hummed. "I suggest that you gain control over these circumstances. I don't want your academic performance to suffer like this, especially since you're capable of so much more." Then the woman smiled gently. "That settled, I also had a question for you."

Sam shrugged. "Yeah?"

"I noticed today that one of my students was absent from class." The professor dug into her files and pulled out a couple of packets. "If you could track down Daniel Fenton and give these to him, I'd really appreciate it."

Horror dropped into Sam's stomach. "Uh, I don't know about-"

"-Ah, thank you so much, Sam!" the professor said happily. "I appreciate your cooperation. I know I can trust you to do this for me, you're so responsible."

Sam flushed, feeling horribly, horribly trapped by a mix of guilt and obligation. "Well, I mean, I guess I can…you know, give him his homework for you."

"Thanks again, Sam. I knew I could count on you."

Sam felt her stomach flip around a couple of times in a dance similar to a seizure. _Oh, boy. _

She was so not ready to see him again.

* * *

The moment Sam walked out of the room (most likely grumbling under her breath), the professor narrowed her eyes and hummed. She pulled a list out of her sweater pocket. Sam and Danny's names were crossed out with careful attention, and the closet matchmaker giggled to herself. "Friend troubles, huh?"

Never mind that the professor could have simply emailed Danny his homework…

She tapped her chin with her pen. "That boy sure misses a lot of classes. Maybe I'll have to employ Sam to help him out more."

Mrs. Clearwaters smiled an evil, mischievous smile. Oh, the joys of teaching young adults, orchestrating relationships, planning the next generation…

* * *

On the other side of Amity Park, Danny Phantom was currently using a phone booth. He'd run up a charge of thirty cents, and an old ghost dressed in a business suit was waiting impatiently outside.

"I'm sorry," the receptionist said over the payphone, "but PETA only protects real endangered species. Ghost's aren't real, and neither are half-ghosts."

"No, no, you don't understand!" Danny said desperately into the receiver. "They are real! Seriously! Type in Amity Park and Danny Phantom on the internet, and I swear you'll have more than enough proof that ghosts exist."

If only he could get on the list, then Skulker would have to leave him alone…

"I'm sorry, but I'm not authorized to add another species onto our list of protected animals until we receive confirmation of an abuse case from our President. Also, ghosts aren't usually categorized as animals, so even if they did exist, we can't help them. We have scientists and ambassadors for human or…uh, post-human consciousness problems."

"But, can't you just-?!"

"-Have a nice day!" the receptionist cheerfully wished him goodbye and then disconnected his call.

He stared at the payphone dejectedly, and then he hung it up. "Dammit," he sighed.

* * *

Meanwhile…

The receptionist turned to her friends, taking off her headphones with a snicker. "Can you believe that? Half-ghosts? That's almost as good as the guy raving about Puff the Magic Dragon."

"Or that one lady and magical unicorns."

"Or Big Foot."

All three of them turned to look at each other and said, "Eeww!"

"No, we'd never ruin our manicured nails over something like that."

* * *

Danny turned back, realizing he'd have to come up with another idea for ultimately stopping Skulker's hunt for half ghosts. "Well, I tried." As he flew out of the phone booth, the now very-much-impatient ghost in a business suit shoved him aside in a flash and shut the booth door. Then, like lightning, the ghost's glasses disappeared, and his business attire morphed into a skintight, blue and red suit.

The old ghost then flew out of the phone booth, one fist raised to the sun as his red cape fluttered in the wind.

Danny blinked at the ghost, realizing that maybe he should have followed him. "Superman?" he said in disbelief. "Did I really just see-?"

"-No, that was just the dead actor, deary," an elderly female voice cut in. "He played Superman back in the original show. Apparently, he still enjoys the part."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense." Then Danny realized who was talking, and he groaned. It was the same old lady, that escape artist. "Oh no. No, no, not you again! What the hell are you doing here? Don't I ever get a break?"

"Deary, I've been waiting for a break my entire afterlife," the crazy old ghost said. "But Hollywood's acting draft services haven't called me yet."

Danny face palmed, hiding his eyes from cold, cruel reality. "God," he complained. Turning to the ghost, he told her, "Why can't you face the fact that they're never going to call you?!"

"I always wanted to star alongside the great actors on the silver screen," she sighed, her clouded, red eyes misting in nostalgia. "Being an escape artist was always my second choice for a job. But one day! One day, I'll get that call."

He sighed. "I think you spent way too much time looking for a gig, lady."

She sharply turned to face him, and her thin lips raised into an insanely cruel smile. "And you spend too much time disrupting my plans! Now suffer the wrath of my precisely honed action-sequence skills!" Her wrinkled hands raised with power, and she shot at him. "Take one, scene three!"

He spiraled up and raised his sparking palms. "Oh yeah? Well, take this!" he called out, and beams of light cut through the wind, straight into the ghost's path.

The old woman fell back and missed the blasts. "Ha!" she scoffed. "You're gonna have to do better than that!" Between her fingers, ectoplasmic energy expanded into green light, and a ghostly version of a bazooka rotated to fit into her hands. "Resistance is futile!" she shouted.

As Danny narrowly dodged the machine blasts, his eyebrows furrowed. "Hey, wait a minute! You can't use that phrase! It's copyrighted by Hollywood! And by Arnold…" He paused, both in the air and in thought. "Uh, Shwartz-? Shwarbinegar?" He started again, adding quickly, "Whoever that massively huge guy with all the weaponry is who uses that phrase!"

She growled, her crazy locks spinning in the air as she shot at him with her bazooka. "I don't care about copyrights or buff actors named Arnold! I just want you out of the way so I can get back to Hollywood! I _must_ be an actress! I must be great!"

"Well then get an agent!" Danny called back mockingly. "Don't come crying to me unless you wanna be on Channel 4 news with a bounty on your head!" Growing tired of fighting and arguing with the ghost, Danny pivoted back and twisted into a somersault. The old woman couldn't keep up. She tried to shoot him again but to no avail.

In a blur, Danny found himself smack in front of the ghost, a Fenton Thermos in his hand.

Before she could utter another poorly-disguised pop culture reference or insult, he sucked her up into the Thermos and shut the cap with a satisfied click.

"Think of it this way: with your horrible aim, you could almost be a back-up bad guy for any major blockbuster film," Danny told the Thermos. It shook in his hand until he stilled it. "Just a thought."

Then the sound of distant cars and twittering birds hit him in a refreshing blast of easy afternoon breeze, free of ghost entities (with the exception of himself, of course). "Ah," he breathed. "Peace, at last!" Danny glanced around at his surroundings for the first time, realizing that he was already flying over his own college campus.

Then he realized he had missed all of his biology class, and part of his physics class. Oh darn.

He was heartbroken, really.

Danny smiled, and his green eyes glinted with good old Fenton mischief. _I really shouldn't enjoy playing hooky this much. I'll regret it…later. _

With the bad guy, er, grandma, captured, and with no other classes to worry about that day, Danny felt his stress roll off his shoulders in waves.

Then he saw it.

Movement by an academic building caught his eye, and he squinted his gaze. Just as the mystery person disappeared out of sight, Danny gasped. "Sam?" he whispered, knowing that stride anywhere.

Cold water stormed through him, and he swallowed hard. "…What is she-?" he cut himself off, realizing the woman had been walking at a pretty fast clip. He followed after her from above, darkly curious. _Why is she in such a hurry? _

Had she seen him or something?

His heart squeezed in his chest, and he gripped the Fenton Thermos a little tighter. _Maybe…_

No, no. He definitely shouldn't fly down there. Definitely not.

Danny swallowed hard, green eyes uncertain. But he needed to know why she'd freaked. He needed to know if she would keep his secret.

He had to talk to her.

* * *

"Okay, Manson," Sam schooled herself as she walked along the academic buildings towards the housing sectors, where one Daniel Fenton's apartment most certainly was located. "Just keep it cool. Hand him the books, and then walk away. Simple."

Maybe if she was lucky, Danny wouldn't even be there. Maybe it would just be his roommate, that techno-geek guy…Tucker, right? Right.

_Yeah, that wouldn't be so bad. _

But Sam had never had a very good relationship with Fate or Destiny, and so her walk across campus came to screeching halt the moment she looked up.

Her eyes widened when she saw a familiar glowing figure twisting in the skies above her. Instinctively, she ducked behind a building, eyes wide. Her heart pounded. _Oh, shit. Oh damn. That's him. _

_I hope he didn't see me, I hope he didn't see me, I hope he didn't see me. _

"Sam?" his soft voice echoed.

She crinkled the edges of Danny's homework with her crushing grip.

_Dammit, he did see me. _

Sam peeked her eyes around the corner to see a flash of light run up Danny Phantom's body, transforming him back into Danny Fenton. She quickly looked away, pressing herself into the bricks, wishing she could disappear. But she knew that she couldn't, and she knew Danny wouldn't choose to disappear either.

She swallowed hard. _He's not like Gregor, remember? _She told herself. _It'll be okay. _

_You need to do this. And not just because you have his homework. _

Hiding the shake in her hands, Sam peeled herself away from the brick siding. She took a deep breath.

"Sam?"

And when she turned around, she saw him. His black hair was wind blown and wild, and in one hand he held a soup thermos with the word Fenton on it. His blue eyes stared straight into hers with a mix of uncertainty, longing, fear.

The two stood in silence, staring each other down, unsure of what to say, afraid to make any sudden movements.

His blue gaze burned her, and she looked away. "Here," she said, shoving the papers and book at him. She quickly snatched her hand back when her fingers grazed against his. He was warm. "It's your homework from biology. Since you missed today." She looked as though she would add something, hesitant. "Look, I…" But then she clicked her mouth shut and backed away.

Danny stared dumbly at the objects in his hands as Sam quickly walked away.

_What the-? _

His fingers tightened around the book, and he unfroze. "Sam? Sam, wait a minute!"

Before he could think about it, he was running after her. He reshuffled all his belongings to reach out for her arm.

His calloused fingers gently wrapped around her elbow. "Come on, don't run away yet."

"Don't touch me," she snapped and he quickly retracted his hand. She inhaled deeply. "I mean…" The words stuck in her throat. She looked away from him. A part of her wanted him to touch her again. "Gah, I dunno."

He still tongue-tied her, in so many ways. How could she explain her jumpiness without actually telling him? How could she apologize for something he wouldn't understand?

How could she really reconcile that the cute, nerdy boy who had saved her was actually one of the top ten sexiest bachelors in Amity Park? Which was a completely irrelevant question, by the way, and it really shouldn't matter but…

Oh look, her thoughts were rambling again.

She blushed and turned away.

Danny's handsome features were drawn into a frown. "Look, if you still don't want to talk to me, fine. But I need to know something. Have you told anyone?"

She kept her eyes focused on the horizon before her. "Told them what?" she asked, voice carefully schooled into a smooth and casual tone.

"You know," he said, struggling to keep up with her pace. His frown faltered with uncertainty. "About me."

Just keep looking away, Manson. "No," she said. "I haven't."

Surprise stopped him cold. "Oh."

For a wild second, Sam thought that maybe Danny would stay there behind her and she could keep walking and it would all be awkward but okay.

Then his voice trailed after her.

"Do you…hate me now?"

Sam stopped walking. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "No. But I still don't know… what to think about you."

Danny stayed silent. She could still feel his presence behind her, and she wanted to groan. He was waiting for an explanation.

Sam opened her eyes and turned around. "Look, something happened in my past, okay? It had to deal with a stupid boy that made up a second identity to steal my family's money, and I played into his game." Her purple eyes hardened with sadness. "I gave him everything, Danny. _Everything_. And when I found out that he wasn't who he said he was, I…" she bit her lip. "I freaked. I realized I couldn't trust anyone. So when I saw you transform, I just thought back to that, and I freaked again."

An apology lingered on her lips. But it never made it.

"But, Sam, why-?"

"-That's all you're getting out of me, and if you ask me again, I'll get a restraining order on you. I don't like talking about it, okay?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "You think it's fun to have that kind of information hidden from you?"

Danny stared at her, blue gaze hard. "Listen, Sam," he told her. "Everything I've said is the truth. _I've_ never lied to you. And I don't know what all happened with that guy in the past, but I'm not him."

She felt herself soften. "I know."

"Then why are you acting like this?" he nearly begged. "Like you never want to see me again or something? Is that what you want?"

She knew the answer, deep down. She was driving up walls as a defense mechanism. She was creating barriers to protect herself, even if she really didn't want those barriers up between him and her.

God, he made her _feel_. For the first time in years, she could feel her heart pound and her mind race, all for him. And in both forms he was so unassuming, his eyes open wide with a true innocence of self. She knew he was _Danny_, plain and simple. She knew she could love him, whether he was human or ghost or something in-between.

But Sam was really, really good at not listening to herself. She gave him a pained glance, then kept walking on.

"Sam! Come on! Please! Just, talk to me!"

He didn't run after her this time, and she kept walking on. She was afraid she'd start crying if she stopped, afraid she'd see him as a man that made her heart jump, afraid she'd really start to care if she never saw him again.

_I'm sorry, Danny. I'm so sorry. _

The gap between them ruptured into a chasm, but she kept walking on, forcing herself to take step after step.

* * *

_A/N: Wow, guys. I didn't mean to let this much time pass. 2012 was a very difficult year for me, in more ways than one. I don't want to burden you guys with all my life stressors, but real life kept me from fanfiction. For those who had been following my A/Ns in Quantum Paradox, I had a very special person in my life die last September. So far, 2013 hasn't been much easier. I had to take a lot of upper level writing classes, which required me to pull multiple all-nighters to write novels, and I've also had a lot of stress-induced illnesses. I'm just now getting back on my feet, in time for my summer job and an internship in the city. With all of this, I just haven't felt like myself. Today marks the one-year anniversary of the heart attack that began all of the trouble of 2012. I miss you, David. _

_The other day, I realized how long I'd kept you waiting for this story. I'm sure many of you may have lost interest in this story because of that wait. I'm sorry, but my real life comes first. I will try to update when I can. I do have a plan for this story, and I know how it ends. I just have to write it. Hopefully, it's still as entertaining for you as it is an escape for me. I really appreciate that many of you have reviewed and favorited and followed this story, despite how silent I've been here on this site. Always feel free to PM me and ask where I'm at with a story; I try to reply to those within a day._

_Updated Friday, May 10, 2013 at 2:15 P.M._

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_Thanks so much for reading,_

_Lightning Streak_


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